Sally Smith O’Rourke’s “The Man Who Loved Jane Austen”

The Man Who Loved Jane Austen by Sally Smith O’Rourke, Kensington Books (copyright 2006), ISBN 0-7582-1037-X

Front and Back Flaps: What if you found a 200-year-old love letter written from a fictional character to the writer who created him? And what if, next to that letter, was another addressed to this character…from the author herself? Truth may be stranger than fiction, but one woman is about to find out what happens when fiction becomes truth…

New York artist Eliza Knight certainly did not realize it at the time, but her life changed when she bought the old, beat-up vanity table one lazy Sunday afternoon. Tucked away behind the mirror she found two letters, one sealed, but one already opened:

“May 12th, 1810. Dearest Jane, the Captain has found me out. I am being forced to go into hiding immediately. But if I am able, I shall still be waiting at the same spot tonight. Then you will know everything you wish to know. F. Darcy.”

F. Darcy? Fitzwilliam Darcy, the fictional hero of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice? Even more mysterious was the other letter, sealed and never read – from Jane to Darcy. Could this man, possibly the most romantic character even written and the hero of Eliza’s favorite novel, have been a real person? Eliza’s initial guarded curiosity turns to astonishment as scientific testing confirms the sealed letter was indeed addressed by Jane Austen. But she is completely baffled by the revelation that the other letter, though proven to be from the same time period, was written by an American.

Caught between the routine of her present life and the intrigue of these incredible discoveries from the past, Eliza decides to look deeper. Her research leads to a majestic, 200-year-old estate where she meets the one man who may hold the answer. But he also has a secret, one he has kept hidden for years. Now, as the real story of Fitzwilliam Darcy unfolds, Eliza finds her life has become a modern-day romance, one that perhaps only Jane Austen herself could have so eloquently written.

O’Rourke’s novel alternates between the past and the present. Eliza meets a man named Fitzwilliam Darcy in Virginia. What she does not know is the current F. Darcy has had an unusual experience on a horse buying trip to England. He jumps his hunter over the barrier and travels back to Jane Austen’s time. The sealed letter can bring Eliza a fortune, but it might be difficult for Darcy to explain how he met Jane Austen and fell in love. He wants the letter as a symbol of requited love.

I found it clever to include Jane Austen as one of the book’s characters, and I enjoyed O’Rourke’s look at Austen’s life. (When the movie “Becoming Jane” came out, I thought of many of the scenes from this novel. There is a similar attitude.) One can find expert plotting, and this is an easy read that pays tribute to Jane Austen’s ideals of romantic love. (As in many modern adaptations, there is some sexual content.)

Ms. O’Rourke will be one of our guest bloggers on AustenAuthors.net in March. I hope everyone will join us then.

Again, this is one of my favorite Austen-inspried books. Although it is 5 years old, one might still find it on used books sites. It does have a new cover and can be found on Amazon and B&N.

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Another Look at Melissa Nathan’s “Pride and Prejudice and Jasmin Field”

Pride and Prejudice and Jasmin Field by Melissa Nathan, Avon Books (copyright 2000), ISBN 0-06-018495-7

Back Cover: It starts out as a lark for Jasmin Field, the charming, acerbically witty columnist for a national women’s magazine. She joins a host of celebrities gathering in London to audition for the season’s most dazzling charity event: a one-night-only stage production of Jane Austen’s immortal Pride and Prejudice, directed by and starring the Academy-Award winning Hollywood heartthrob Harry Noble. And nobody is more surprised than Jasmin herself when she lands the lead role of handsome Harry’s love interest, Elizabeth Bennet. But things start to go very wrong very quickly. Ms. Field’s delicious contempt for the arrogant, overbearing Harry Noble goes from being wicked fun to infuriating. Her brief moment of theatrical glory looks as if it’s going to be overshadowed by the betrayal of her best friend, the disintegration of her family and the implosion of her career. And suddenly she can’t remember a single one of her lines. But, worst of all, Harry Noble – who, incidentally looks amazing in tight breeches – has started to stare hard at Jazz with that sort of a glimmer in his eyes…

One of the reasons I was initially attracted to this book was that Jasmin Field is a journalist, of sorts. She writes a social column for Hoorah, a woman’s “trashy” magazine. Having trained in journalism, I liked the idea. Jazz’s slant on life is a modern version of Elizabeth Bennet’s observations. This is a story that speaks to the questions of judgments and beliefs. All the elements of Jane Austen’s original are available, sometimes to the detriment of the story line – for example, the Charlotte Lucas/Mr. Collins story is a bit ridiculous. However, Nathan handles her homage to Austen with a quiet humor reminiscent of the original. There are problems with changes in point of view (sometimes within a paragraph), as well as use of profanity and sexual encounters. Yet, Nathan’s acerbic wit is contagious. (I should mention at this point that Ms. Nathan succumbed to cancer several years past. Personally, I would have liked to see what other Austen story lines that Nathan might have added to the contemporary adaptations. I also own Nathan’s Persuading Annie, which is a modern version of Austen’s Persuasion. I will discuss that one later on.)

One of my favorite scenes in this book occurs when Harry and Jazz are rehearsing a scene for the play. Jazz explains to Harry about Mr. Darcy’s motivations in Pride and Prejudice. I have always thought it was a magnificent analysis of Fitzwilliam Darcy.

Acting with Harry was an amazing experience. Jazz entirely forgot herself. Because he was so utterly convincing as Darcy, her reactions, which had been so tame with Brian, were now highly charged. The rest of the cast stopped talking and started silently watching what was going on. Whenever Harry gave Jazz an idea or suggested trying her delivery a different way, she knew instinctively what he was getting at and what he was trying to get out of her. And they were always both delighted with the result. She was buzzing with excitement. This was thrilling! Jazz loved the way Harry was making Lizzy stronger by the minute. And after a while, he even started accepting her ideas. She managed to convince him to make his Darcy more pained.

“The man’s in love, for goodness sake,” she said at one point.

“Why should that pain him?” asked Harry. “He still thinks he’s superior to her. And is still arrogant enough to assume she would accept his hand.”

Jazz answered as if he was an idiot. “Because he still thinks he can’t marry her – it would go against every one of his principles. And his principles are his whole identity. He’s going through constant inner turmoil every time he sees her. He’s fighting himself whenever she’s there. This is the only woman he has ever felt so powerfully attracted to. Physically as well as emotionally. He’s never even fancied a woman before. Darcy has never been out of control before – it’s terrifying, confusing and amazing all at the same time. Lizzy makes all the other women he can get – and let’s face it, he can get all of them – pale into insignificance. She’s the only woman who has ever answered him back, who has ever made him think twice about what he says, who has ever made him reconsider his lifelong principles. And yet she’s from a repulsive lower-class stock. It’s like a terrible awakening for him. And every time he sees her he is more aware of the increasingly agonizing dilemma he is in. He’s getting more hopelessly devoted and yet more aware of the impossibility of marriage to her at the same time. It’s – it’s living hell.”

Like Debra White Smith’s “First Impressions,” this book is no longer available, but if one can find it on a used book site, it is well worth the read. I would give it a 4 out of 5 stars.

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Review of Debra White Smith’s Contemporary Jane Austen “First Impressions”

When I am not writing my own novels, I read voraciously. Therefore, one of my New Year Resolutions is to share with my friends some of what I have read. For this first review, I have chosen Debra White Smith’s First Impressions. This book is part of Smith’s backlist, but it is worth doing a search for it. Ms. Smith is a minister, and her Austen Series are modern adaptations of Jane Austen’s novels, each with a religious message.  Besides First Impressions, which is a contemporary version of Pride and Prejudice, one may find Possibilities (Persuasion), Amanda (Emma), Northpointe Chalet (Northanger Abbey), and Reason and Romance (Sense and Sensibility). I absolutely loved Possibilities and will address it in the future. Smith will be a guest  blogger on AustenAuthors.net in March. Please stop by to interact with her.

When Eddi Boswick is cast as Elizabeth, the female lead in a local production of “Pride and Prejudice,” she hesitates. Dave, the handsome young rancher cast as Darcy, seems arrogant and unpredictable. Accepting the challenge of playing opposite him, Eddi soon realizes that he is difficult to work with on and off the set. When a tornado springs out of nowhere, Dave protects Eddi…much to her chagrin. And he is shocked to discover an attraction for the feisty lawyer he can’t deny. Sparks fly when Eddi misinterprets his interest and discovers the truth he’s trying to hide.

First Impressions, by Debra White Smith – from Harvest House Publishers (copyright 2004) ISBN 0-7369-0872-2

The first in her Austen Series, Smith dedicates this novel to Dr. Michael Murphy, the professor who first introduced her to Jane Austen. In this novel, Smith begins by providing her readers with a “Cast” of characters. Please note that for each she says her characters are “based on” Austen’s, which means that an Austen lover will see the similarities, but Smith has not insisted that the characters “do everything” as the Austen originals. Nor do they react in the same manner as Austen’s beloved characters, a purposeful choice which I appreciated. Even in an “inspirational” series, translating Austen’s characters into contemporary situations is not possible. Obviously, the restraints on marriage and relationships which colored the Regency Period are not an issue in the modern world. Las Vegas is the modern answer to Gretna Green.

Smith masterly tells the story through her dialogue. Although her description is first rate, her dialogue is spotless. Coming from a theatre background, I appreciate advancing the story with dialogue rather than long passages of narration. However, it is apparent from the beginning that Smith makes no attempt to replicate Austen’s style. The characters are relatable, and it eloquently speaks to the role of religion in a person’s life. The challenges and rewards of love are the main theme.

If you are an Austen fan and are familiar with the scene where Mr. Darcy tells Charles Bingley that Elizabeth Bennet is “tolerable, but not handsome enough” to tempt him. Then this is Smith’s version of that event. (Dave’s aunt Madelynne DeBloom is conducting  a reading of Pride and Prejudice to determine parts in the upcoming production.)

A cautious precognition suggested Eddi should stop eavesdropping. She rubbed her fingertips along the buttons on her linen jacket. A daredevil streak challenged her to ignore caution just this once.

What has caution gotten me so far? she asked. An empty townhouse with a dog pound refugee and two resentful felines to keep me warm at night. She crossed her legs and gazed past the honeysuckle-laden trellis to a woodpecker that was determined to pound his beak into the oak at the porch’s corner. All the while she pined for any signal of interest from the renegade rancher.

“Oh, so we’re not commenting on the lawyer?” Calvin teased. “Why not?”

Dave remained silent. Eddi looked down and pulled at the top of a piece of broccoli.

“Whatsa matter?” Calvin blurted. “Are you afraid of her?”

A caustic laugh bounced around the porch. “Yeah, right,” Dave retorted.

“Or maybe you’re worried she’s too smart for you! Ha!” Calvin laughed. “That’s a good one.”

Eddi snapped her attention from the broccoli to the porch’s corner. Calvin slid his chair back and his legs disappeared.

“Oh, shut up, ” Dave groused. “If you must know, Eddi Boswick would have to be way more classy to keep my attention for long.”

If you are a Jane Austen lover, you will enjoy this novel. It is worth the read to see how Smith handles the “second proposal” scene. My only objection when I first read this novel was it was a bit “preachy” in the middle regarding Linda Boswick and Rick Wallace’s relationship. Linda and Rick are the Lydia Bennet and George Wickham characters in Smith’s novel. Of course, after I realized that Ms. Smith was the founder of Real Life Ministries, the emphasis on abortion issues made more sense.

I would give this book 4.5 stars out of 5. Although it is currently out of print, I would encourage you to pick up a used copy on Amazon or another media outlet.

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1816: The Year Without Summer


The Year Without a Summer (also known as the Poverty YearYear There Was No Summer, and Eighteen Hundred and Froze to Death) was 1816, in which severe summer climate abnormalities resulted in major food shortages. Much of the cause of this anomaly is blamed on the volcanic eruption of Mount Tambora (located on the island of Sumbawa, Indonesia) in April 1815.

Rated a 7 on the Volcanic Explosivity Index, the Tambora eruption had ash falls as far away as Borneo, Sulawesi, Java, and the Maluku islands. Most who died from the eruption came from starvation and disease. 71,000+ people died. Some 12,000 killed from the explosion.

In Europe, people were still recovering from the devastation of the Napoleonic Wars. Food shortages were already prevalent. In the UK and France, food riots were common. Switzerland declared a national emergency because of famine. Abnormal rainfall swelled European rivers. 100,000 Irishmen perished from a combination of a famine and a major typhus epidemic.

In New England, the corn crop failed. Because of supply and demand, the cost of wheat and grains skyrocketed. In Hungary, the population experienced brown snow. Italy had red snow. Volcanic ash is believed to be the cause. The rice crop in China failed due to the summer’s low temperatures. Summer snowfalls occurred in several of China’s provinces. In tropical Taiwan, snow was also reported.

J. M. W. Turner celebrated the spectacular sunsets during this period, likely caused by high levels of ash. People have noted the yellow tinge that is predominant in his paintings, such as Chichester Canal circa 1828.

The crop failures of the “Year without a Summer” may have helped shape the settling of the “American Heartland,” as many thousands of people (particularly farm families who were wiped out by the event) departed New England for what is now western and central New York and the upper Midwest in search of a more profitable land.

Chichester Canal, circa 1828 by J.M.W. Turner

Among those who left Vermont were the family of Joseph Smith. This move precipitated a series of events which culminated in the publication of the Book of Mormon and the founding of the Church of Jesus-Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Mary Shelley

In July 1816 “incessant rainfall” during that “wet, ungenial summer” forced Mary Shelley, John William Polidori, Lord Byron and their friends to stay indoors for much of their Swiss holiday.

John William Polidori

They decided to have a contest to see who could write the scariest story, leading Shelley to write Frankenstein, the Modern Prometheus and Polidori to write The Vampyre In addition, their host, Lord Byron was inspired to write a poem, “Darkness,” at the same time.

 

The events of April 1815 play a part in my next novel The Disappearance of Georgiana Darcy (scheduled for release in March 2012), which begins in July 1815, after Wellington vanquishes Napoleon at Waterloo.


 

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The Decadent Prince Regent

George IV

Those of us who regularly “study” the period know as the Regency are well aware of the hedonistic nature of George IV, but many are unaware of the extent of the Prince Regent’s decadent ways.

In truth, George IV, the Prince of Wales, possessed his charms. He was a man of enormous charm, gentlemanly manners, high intelligence, and elegance of address. He was often referred to as “The First Gentleman of Europe.” Yet, he was also a drunkard and a lecher.

 

Carlton House


The Prince lived at Carlton House, a massive structure off Pall Mall. His circle of friends were notorious for their actions. The group included politicians, scholars, courtesans, and society hostesses. Among the most powerful of the group was Charles James Fox (renown for his opposition to George III), Georgiana, the Duchess of Devonshire, the playwright Richard Brinsley Sheridan, and King of the Dandies, Beau Brummell.

Beau Brummell

However, there were more eccentric member of the Prince’s entourage.  Colonel George Hanger married a gypsy girl, who was dubbed “the lovely Aegypta of Norwood.” In the end, the girl deserted Hanger for a bandy-legged tinker. The colonel gambled away his fortune and was imprisoned for his debts.  Lady Lade, the wife of Sir John Lade, and the reputed mistress of the Duke of York, had early on been employed as a servant in a brothel. She was reportedly the mistress of “sixteen-string Jack,” a well known highwayman. Sir John had his own eccentricities. He liked to dress and speak like a groom. Considering he managed the Prince’s stables, I suppose this most appropriate.

On a whim, the Prince ignored rules of etiquette. For example, at one of the Duke of Clarence’s famous parties, George IV gave precedence to his brother’s mistress Mrs. Jordan over a Duchess at dinner. The Prince Regent refused to invited his wife Princess Caroline to a fest celebrating the beginning of his Regency. George’s sisters freely welcomed many of his mistresses, most notably the Ladies Hereford and Jersey, but they refused to acknowledge his last mistress, Lady Conyngham.

George once wrote to Mrs. Fitzherbert, the woman most identify as the Prince Regent’s “great love,” a forty-two page letter in which he begged her to be his mistress. He even staged an attempted suicide to convince the lady.

George IV’s brothers were equally as decadent (except possibly the Duke of Kent). The Duke of Clarence had ten illegitimate children by the before-mentioned Mrs. Jordan. The Duke of Cumberland was rumored to have been guilty of incest. The Duke of York had an infamous affair with Mary Anne Clarke, which involved the sale of army commissions.

Georgiana, the Duchess of Devonshire, shared her home with her husband’s mistress, Lady Elizabeth Foster. The Duke fathered three children by his wife and two by his mistress. Meanwhile, Georgiana gave Lord Grey two children.

Lord Melbourne (the future Prime Minister) was reportedly fathered by Lord Egrement. Lady Melborne’s six children were rumored to have a variety of fathers. “Harleian Miscellany” was the term used to describe the Countess of Oxford, Lady Harley’s many children.

Lord Melbourne

 

 

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Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays from my North Carolina Home to Yours. Today, I am watching my favorite Jane Austen movies and writing a new chapter for “A Touch of Grace.” It will be a quiet day, and for that I am thankful.

I encourage each of you to give God what he most wants for Christmas. Not your life. He has no use for it. God bestowed “life” upon you. Instead, consider giving him what he most desires: your sin.

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Winners for Jane Austen Birthday Soiree

From the many entries of the Jane Austen Birthday Soiree, I am pleased to announce the winners of a copy of Christmas at Pemberley. Because of the large number of entrants, I have added an extra copy of the book to the mix. Therefore, we will have TWO winners. They are

Identity Seeker

Miss Laurie

Congratulations and Happy Holidays!!!

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Favorite Sayings and The Allure of Days Gone By…

(In cleaning out some of my school files, I came across these common phrases and their sources. Enjoy!!!)

Here are some facts about the 1500s:

People married in June. Most had taken their yearly bath in May, so the bride crarried a bouquet of flowers to cover their body odors. Hence, the bridal bouquet became a tradition at weddings.

A family used the same tub of water for baths. The man of the house received the benefit of clean water for his ablutions. His efforts were followed by all the other men/boys in the family. Women came next. Children were followed by babies. By then, the water was so dirty that one might hear “Don’t throw the baby out with the bath water. ”

“Peas porridge hot, peas porridge cold, peas porridge in the pot nine days old.” A vegetable stew served today would remain on the fire tonight. People ate their fill, and leftovers remained in the pot to get cold overnight. The next day, the fire was relit and new vegetables were added. Some pots held remnants from several days’ efforts.

Having meat to share was a sign of wealth. Families would, literally, hang bacon to dry where visitors might see it. “Bringing home the bacon” was a sign of importance. People would cut off some of the dried meat to share with their guests. They would “sit around and chew the fat. ”

Pewter plates were also a sign of wealth. Unfortunately, high acid foods (especially, tomatoes) caused some of the lead in the plates to seem into the food = lead poisoning. For many centuries, people thought it was the tomatoes that were poisonous.

Likewise, lead cups were used for ale and whisky. Imbibers often spent a couple of days passed out from the combination. If they couldn’t be brought around, they might find themselves laid out for burial. Hence, “holding a wake” to see if the person would awaken became commonplace.

Houses had thatched roofs, each with thick straw piled high. Unfortunately, no wood was underneath the straw. Often, small animals found warmth in the thatch. If it rained, the straw became slippery. Therefore, we have the saying “It’s raining cats and dogs.”

The animals and “bugs” could also drop unexpectingly on one’s head. Therefore, “canopy” beds became essential. A bed with big posts and a sheet hung over the top afforded some protection from the barrage of “visitors. ”

“Dirt poor” came about from the floors in poor households.  The rich had slate floors, which became slippery when wet. People, therefore, placed thresh on the floor to maintain their footing. As the winter wore on, more thresh was added. When people opened the door, the thresh would slip out. To prevent this from happening, they placed a piece of wood over the entranceway as a “thresh hold.”

(I first came across these facts in an article from Senior Sun in April 2006. I no longer have the original article to know the source of the facts from the news page.)

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You Know You Are a Kid of the 90s If…

(While cleaning out files today, I came across this list. I wondered how many of these my son would remember.)

You know you are a 90s kid if…

You’ve ever ended a sentence with the word “Psyche!”

You can sing the rap to “The Fresh Prince of Bel Air.”

You’ve worn skorts and felt stylish when doing so.

You learned to be part of the Baby-Sitters Club.

You use to love playing with  My Little Pet Shop.

You know that “Woah!” comes from Joey on “Blossom” and that “How Rude!” comes from Stephanie from “Full House.”

You remember when it was actually worth getting up early on Saturday to watch cartoons.

You wore a ponytail on the side of your head and had fluffed bangs.

You got super excited when it was Oregon Trail day in computer class at school.

You wanted to change your name to “JEM” in kindergarten.

You remember reading “Goosebumps.”

You know the profound meaning of “Wax on, wax off.”

You have pondered why Smurfette was the only female smurf.

You took plastic cartoon lunch boxes to school.

You remember the craze then the banning of slap bracelets and slam books.

You still get the urge to say “NOT” after (almost) every sentence.

You knew that Kimberly, the pink ranger, and Tommy, the green ranger, were meant to be together.

You remember “I’ve fallen and can’t get up.”

You owned jelly shoes and wore them everywhere.

You thought Brain would finally take over the world.

You remember going to the skating rink before there were inline skates.

You were injured on a Slip ‘n’ Slide.

You wore socks over leggings scrunched down.

You remember boom boxes vs. CD players.

You knew what it meant to say “Care Bear Stare.”

You remember Alf, the little brown alien from Melmac and Vicki the Robot from “My Little Wonder.”

You remember New Kids on the Block when they were “in.”

You knew all the characters’ names and their life stories on “Saved By the Bell.”

You played or collected “Pogs.”

You used to pretend to be a Mighty Morphin Power Ranger, and you owned a Skip It.

You had, at least, one GigaPet or Nano and brought it everywhere.

You watched the original Care Bears, My Little Pony, and Ninja Turtles.

You remember when the new Beanie Babies were always sold out.

You remember a time before the WB.

You got creeped out by “Are You Afraid of the Dark?”

You still remember how to do the Macarena.

“Talk to the hand…” enough said.

Are there others which should be on this list?

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My Week with Jane Austen (as described in a letter to her cousin, Lady Williams)

16 December 2011

Dearest Cousin Jane, our own Lady Williams,

Today has been the most glorious of days. Against the wishes of my dear family, I have, reluctantly, answered the prayers of a most amenable lady, Miss Regina Jeffers, who resides in the Americas to spend my 236th birthday with her. Miss Jeffers is a woman with a temper remarkably easy and is everything that is generous and considerate. However, fearing for my Christian soul and because of principle, as well as pride, our beloved Cassandra and my cousin Eliza have accompanied me.

The source of the family’s fears lay in the naming of the neighborhood in which Miss Jeffers resides: Indian Trail. Images of undraped painted savages fired our fears, but Miss Jeffers assured me prior to our visit, that although Amerinds do exist in 21st Century America, the “tribes,” as the kind lady terms them, act far differently from the hostile massacres reported in the Times in 1810. With a bit of biting humor, the lady added, “Unless one counts losing one’s fortune at a Cherokee casino table as a violent attack.” Miss Jeffers later explained that to survive in modern America, the Cherokees and several other tribes native to the continent have resorted to opening gambling halls to support their numbers. I have never known anyone who has peopled such an establishment, but Eliza assures me that Henry has been known to associate with several London toffs who frequent gaming hells. As we always say of our most mercurial brother, “Oh that, Henry!” I could quite imagine John Willoughby, Tom Bertram, or George Wickham, with their blunted delicacy, their perversions, their corrupted vitiated minds, and their cold-blooded vanities, would intimately know the insides of these infamous dens. I admit to finding Miss Jeffers’ use of the term Amerinds for what we have disdainfully voiced as American Indians intriguing. Miss Jeffers claims her society is much more politically correct than previous generations. I am not familiar with the term, but having known George IV’s influence, I can readily determine her meaning. The phrase, “to his Royal Highness, THE PRINCE REGENT, this work is, by His Royal Highness’s permission, most respectfully dedicated, by His Royal Highness’s dutiful and obedient humble servant, THE AUTHOR” still haunts me.

Miss Jeffers lives on a quiet road in a radiantly beautiful community known as Lake Park. Eliza, Cassandra, and I arrived at Miss Jeffers’ stately home several days prior to the marking of my birthday celebration. According to the local weatherman, the temperature remained in the upper 60s. I am not certain what those words mean exactly; however, we have found the weather quite mild, and we have enjoyed several vigorous walks along the village streets, which sport a physician’s office, a school for small children, fashionable townhouses to rival many of London’s finest, and an excellent coffee shop – although I admit to having no taste for the bitter brew, the conversation and company were welcomed. I suppose that I should remark on the fact that in this day and age that a man might earn a living by predicting the weather. Although I have known several men who have held an interest in science, I had never thought that studying the weather might be a source of income. My hostess assures me that these predictors are only correct 50% of the time. I think that is more remarkable than the fact that a man might feed his family from such an occupation. This is definitely a very forward-thinking and ridiculous time. Thankfully, Miss Jeffers, my new BFF, prefers brewing her tea from loose leaves to imbibing in this American beverage. BFF, my most adored cousin, represents the words Best Friends Forever. It seems that not only the Americans, but the world, have turned its back on the King’s English.  Everything in this contemporary world is abbreviated for some odious form of communication called text messaging. Miss Jeffers is fond of LOL, which means laugh out loud. People in this time use this acronym to indicate what they have just offered an offense but did so with irony. Humor is the only socially accepted form of criticism, and the modern world has used this slight as common behavior. Our hostess has even described something called Twitter where people communicate with a total of 140 letters and spaces combined. How pitiful the depths of conversation has sunk! And to think I once had my dearest Anne Elliot say, “My idea of good company is the company of clever, well-informed people, who have a great deal of conversation.” Miss Jeffers has explained that she and her friends on Twitter “tweet” about me so I suppose that I must withdraw any objections I might have of this newfound form of elucidation.

I am in awe that Miss Jeffers lives in this modest home alone, with scarcely any private fortune. In my time, it would have never been possible. Yet, I have found great satisfaction in the main among my new acquaintance. It is a two-story dwelling surrounded by several stately trees and a small rose garden. What most amazed both Eliza and I were three rooms devoted to nothing but bathing and ones personal needs. With just the twist of a knob, hot and cold water are delivered upon a whim. No servants to tote the water nor the need for chamberpots. The early tales of water closets have miraculously developed into a system that whisks away one’s unmentionables with the touch of a lever.

Over the past few days, Miss Jeffers has graciously given me a personal “tour” of what she calls my influence on the literary canon. On her floor to ceiling shelves, the lady sports some 150 books based upon my six simple novels. We have traveled in a modern day carriage that Regina calls a Buick LaCrosse (a coach with all forward facing seats and no horses) to the bookstore closest to the lady’s home to marvel at the number of books available that are based on my writings. My own titles still thrive on the shelves after more than 200 years. The thought of such accolades has brought  me to happy tears. I am attempting to be sensible about my uncommon good fortune, but I admit that vanity was in such good order that a bit of burlesque crept into my bearing.

Our hostess has also introduced our party to a plethora of “films” that tout my novels as great works of literature. “Films” is the term Miss Jeffers uses. To describe these advancements, I would say that someone has captured the images of stage actors with scenery in a constantly moving format, which can be viewed multiple times. It seems there are various adaptations of my books. That sounds odd for me to say without sounding of conceit. It is not something I can easily accept, but accept them I will. I watched Sense and Sensibility with a wish that I had given the good Colonel Brandon as much depth as did the person who rewrote it for this play. Despite having the advantage in every feature, Northanger Abbey and Mansfield Park have received less attention than my other works.  I do not censure Miss Jeffers remarks, but there certainly is impropriety in making them public. I have been set to wondering what makes those two pieces less acceptable to the reading public, but my disapprobation is one of a great defect of temper, made worst by a very faulty habit of self-indulgence. LOL! I did adore one particular version of Persuasion. I have always held a fondness for Anne Elliot and Captain Wentworth. Despite not following my story line completely, the characters were captured beautifully by the actors. One British group has taken my beloved Pride and Prejudice and produced a performance that totals some six hours. It was fairly displayed, and I was quite pleased with it. A two-hour version of my favorite tale was less true to the actual story, but was equally as amiable.

Miss Jeffers also showed me other items bearing my name and likeness that she termed as collectibles: a trivia game, paper dolls, chess pieces, a necklace, a door marker, greeting cards, and even a doll created in my image. In viewing these items, I considered how much revenues from such items could have benefited my dear family, and I am grieved by the knowledge of how my mother, Cassandra, and I had to live after the passing of Reverend Austen. Cassandra, however, saw Miss Jeffers’s revelations as a bold statement of what she claims she had always known. My darling Cassandra speaks of my genius as if I might rival the world’s greatest thinkers. I am humbled by her praise. If I were a woman given to conceit, all this attention would lead me to shout for joy from the windows of the highest drying rooms of Chatsworth House.

Speaking of the great house leads me to share news of my actual birthday celebration. Although Miss Jeffers readily confirmed the numerous marvels that she could show me, my hostess had chosen a simpler celebration. We rose early, but I must say that the metropolitan concept of “early” is greatly in arrears of a new day’s start in the country. We breakfasted at the lady’s home. Our hostess kindly served a full breakfast with eggs, Cumberland sausages, bacon, potatoes, grilled tomatoes, grilled mushrooms, and toast with clotted cream. As a vegetarian, Miss Jeffers has gone to great lengths to share what she believes would remind our party of our happier times. With such warm feelings and lively spirits, it is difficult for me to do justice to her affection.

After breakfast, we departed the lady’s home for a leisurely driven journey to a place north of Charlotte. We marveled at the beauty of the countryside, a piedmont between the Appalachian Mountains and the Atlantic Ocean. I must say that if English roads had been so well maintained, Mr. Darcy’s journey from Pemberley to Longbourn would have have been but a matter of hours rather than days. Our destination was a place called Biltmore House, a 250-room French chateau in the mountain town of Asheville. It dates to 1895 and was built by George Vanderbuilt. I have enclosed a rendering of the house, which sports fabulous gardens, its own village, and a winery. One could spend days exploring this estate. The estate could easily contend as a model of my fictionalized Pemberley.

Leaving this magnificent house behind, we enjoyed an afternoon tea at a local tea shop called SweetTea’s Bakery and Tea Room. Miss Jeffers explained that in the South (of the American continent) that people prefer their tea cold and very very sweet, and that concept was the impetus for choosing the name for the tea room.  Today, the proprietress was serving cream teas, each of us choosing our own flavors. A pot of tea and a scone with clotted cream and raspberry preserves brought a renewal of our energies.

Returning to Charlotte, we took an early supper at Big Ben’s British Pub. According to Miss Jeffers, Big Ben is the nickname for the great bell of the clock at the north end of London’s Palace of Westminster. Over 150 years old, it is the largest four-face chiming clock in the world. I am sorry not to have known of this historic landmark until today. The pub is owned by two former Englishmen, and it strives to bring a taste of my home to these shores. Cassandra chose a shepherd’s pie with ground lamb; Eliza selected a steak and kidney pie; whereas, I chose the lord’s lamb roast with potatoes, several vegetables, and a Yorkshire pudding. We began our meal with a ploughman’s platter, a selection of fine cheese and crusty bread with a relish and a wally. We finished the meal with a sticky toffee pudding.

Exhausted by the day, we returned to Miss Jeffers’s home to watch two more of the moving pictures that she has shared with us this week. Surprisingly, although the wonderment remains, the stupefaction has lessened. Tonight we watched Miss Austen Regrets, and I found myself quite maudlin until Miss Jeffers chose a less effusively sentimental display in the fictionalize biography entitled Becoming Jane. Some day, my dear cousin, I shall describe a delicious scene in this story where our always demure Cassandra hid her eyes, while Eliza and I looked on in wry amusement at the actions of our Henry and Mr. LeFroy. Eliza always led me to think more boldly than I should, but I adore her for bringing the world to our little part of Hampshire.

This has been an accounting of my time in the Americas. I had held great trepidation at looking into the future, but Miss Jeffers has the advantage in every feature, and I have experienced a more cordial pleasure in the connection than I thought possible.

With love,

Your cousin Jane

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