Issue #53

Austen and Aliens

With no new series to binge on, Husband becomes strangely amenable to watching Jane Austen movies and television series. It’s possible he’s discovered a newfound interest in Regency social systems and landed gentry but more likely his hip is locked and he’s unable to get up from the couch. Mine is not to reason why but to do and press play.

We begin with the 1995 BBC six-part series Pride and Prejudice. Husband has never seen Kiera Knightly’s predictably indignant performance in the 2005 film, so he can’t appreciate how far superior Jennifer Ehle’s merry-eyed Lizzie Bennet is. He also doesn’t find David Bambur’s simpering, aristocracy-obsessed Mr. Collins as hilarious as I do. But no matter. It is a truth universally acknowledged that a husband watching Jane Austen with his wife is a very good husband indeed.

By episode 4 Husband says he is unimpressed by Colin Firth’s Mr. Darcy. I’m surprised that I agree. After many years of considering Firth an excellent Darcy, mostly because he looks handsome in a wet white blouse, I’m shocked at how limited his range is. Firth’s expression changes so little from a scowl and furrowed brow that it’s as if he’s had reverse Botox.

For three nights running we watch the marital prospects of the Bennet sisters come and go and come again. I assume Husband is enjoying it as much as I am because he has not fled the room. Unfortunately, he’s lukewarm. “Stupid English,” he says, “all they do is go on walks and talk and drink tea.” Precisely. Isn’t it wonderful!

We follow up with the 1995 Persuasion starring the perfectly-cast Amanda Root and Ciaran Hinds as Anne Elliot and Captain Wentworth. This is a risky choice for us because the pace of the movie is slow and the leads are quieter and not as conventionally attractive as in P & P. I’m hoping Husband sees that the chemistry between Anne and Wentworth is off the charts, and that Anne, without benefit of new make-up or new clothes, experiences a glow-up for the ages, a change occurring solely because of love. Persuasion is my favorite Austen novel, and this is one of my favorite Austen adaptations.

Husband doesn’t love it at all. He says, “What is the point?” He means not just the point of Persuasion but of all the Austen he’s been watching.

The point, I say, is that women’s financial stability was completely dependent on making a good marriage or on not having a brother or cousin or other male relation who would kick her out of her recently-deceased father’s home. And also—the point is—romance and— human nature—and crazy characters and sharp dialogue and—for Pete’s sake, I’m not writing a term paper. It’s funny and it’s pretty to look at, isn’t that enough?

By the time we begin Ang Lee’s Sense and Sensibility he’s reached his Austen saturation point. He leaves after twenty minutes, before I can complain to him about the miscasting of Emma Thompson and Hugh Grant who have the romantic chemistry of two people standing in checkout lines in two separate grocery stores, and about the way Grant’s clothes hang on him like a boy wearing his big brother’s football uniform, and how Alan Rickman seems to think he’s in a zombie movie, and how Kate Winslet manages to make the irritating Marianne infinitely more irritating. Alas, my barbed commentary finds an audience only here, with you.

All being fair in love and binging-watching, we switch to Star Trek, specifically Star Trek: Enterprise. For those not familiar with the Star Trek oeuvre, Enterprise is the prequel to the original Star Trek, with Captain Archer sitting at the helm instead of Captain Kirk. Archer shares with Kirk a hot-headed approach to crises, so it’s familiar territory.

In series 3, Archer has to convince a council of Xindi to help him stop an Earth-destroying weapon. The Xindis are an alien race that include multiple species such as the Reptilians (jacked-up lizard-people), the Aquatics (huge turtles who live in an aquarium and communicate like whales) and Insectoids (7-foot-tall ants who emit crackles and when necessary pinch the captain into submission). The real enemy are the time-travelling, shape-shifting Sulibans, who are green and seem to be covered in composite driveway material.

When the Suliban weapon is about to blow up Earth, Dolim, the head Reptilian, shouts, “Destiny!” Seconds later a bomb destroys the Suliban weapon, earth is saved, and Dolim screams, “NOOOOOO!”

I fail to see the superior content.

First of all, I want to say, wouldn’t T’Pol, Archer’s second-in-command and the requisite Vulcan crewmember, look better in an empire gown trimmed in lace with some curls spilling from her bun to cover her pointy ears? No, Husband prefers her plain old (very) form-fitting unitard.

But seriously, isn’t it more interesting to watch a noisy family at table, clattering forks on china plates, and servants ladling soup, and goblets of wine capturing the candlelight than to watch dinner dispensed from an espresso-like machine that no one is ever shown eating? Wouldn’t you rather see English countryside, open fields and open skies, than low-tech special-effects meteors or nebulas? Life-changing, wax-sealed letters opened in private over transporter machines on the fritz at the worst possible moment? Dialogue like, “Pray do not talk of that odious man!” instead of “Shields at forty percent!”?

But I enjoy Star Trek well enough, I don’t ask what’s the point, because I know what the point is. A headstrong but principled man makes a risky decision that never, ever goes belly-up and always leads to the salvation of a crew, a species or a planet. I prefer fantasies of the Austen variety: a woman of high spirits or good sense or both navigates a world of eccentrics, schemers and hypocrites to find love and economic security.

But to each his own. Live long and prosper. Or just go on walks and talk and drink tea.

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Not For Women Only

I was surprised to learn that Husband had never read a Jane Austen novel, given that he went to an excellent high school and college, and in his youth read Henry James for pleasure. I wondered if Not Reading Austen was a male thing, so I made an unscientific and unbalanced survey of 21 men of my acquaintance: Have you ever read a Jane Austen novel for school or for enjoyment?

I was expecting that almost none of them had, but seven answered in the affirmative, and of those, only two mentioned not liking it (“a forced read,” one said, and “too proper,” said the other). An eighth responder said he had tried to read Pride and Prejudice but that it couldn’t compete with the old Flashman series. One friend said he’d never read Austen but his Austen-loving daughter gave him the “Cliff notes” and that he’d watched some Austen movies with her. One funny fellow said, no Austen but I crushed a piano today for work. And sent a picture. Finally, one of the better-read respondents in the group said he preferred Henry Fielding’s Tom Jones, which is funny because who is Tom Jones but a more charming and much more good-hearted Wickham, a womanizer out to find his fortune but falling prey to drinking, gambling, and debt?

In the end I couldn’t draw any conclusions from my little survey. If I had polled a group of women the results would probably have been similar except that more women would mention watching Austen movies.

Actually I did discover one thing: the 21 men of my acquaintance were quick to respond and seemed to enjoy being asked about themselves.

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Not for Austen Purists

If you want more contemporary Austen-adjacent shows, here are a few recommendations:

• Miss Austen with the wonderful Keely Hawes as Jane Austen’s sister Cassandra. I resisted watching this series for the very reasons I stated in the last issue of Restless Egg—it’s hard for me to watch shows where a character dies of cancer. I started and stopped it a few times, but at some point, with nothing else to amuse me, I saw it through, and now I recommend it to everyone.

  There’s a scene at the end (and this is no spoiler because as we all know Jane Austen died at age 41 of breast cancer) in which Cassandra lies abed with Jane as they say their final goodbyes. It’s tender and beautiful and delicate and unforgettable. I sobbed my way through it, both because I felt the love between the sisters and because it brought back two memories of saying final goodbyes to people I loved. The first memory was when my mother was in the hospital near the very end of her life. I had to say goodbye, and although I had plans to return in a week or two, I knew it was probably the last time I’d see her. I got in her bed, something I hadn’t done since I was little, held in her my arms, and told her all the things such a moment elicits. My mother, being both practical and strong, probably understood what I was thinking.

  

  The other memory, a similar one, is of the last time I kissed my sister Josie goodbye (at least while she was lucid and awake). She was also in the hospital, and once again I was headed back to Michigan with scheduled plans to return. We had just been belly-laughing and then it was time to go. See you in two weeks, I said, trying to keep things light. But once again I knew it was possible and maybe even probable that I wouldn’t see her again. We looked at each other and held hands and I kissed her forehead again and again. I worried I was sending the wrong message—that I couldn’t bear to leave her because I wouldn’t see her again—and Josie had no intention of going anywhere—but I couldn’t hold back. My dear sweet sister accepted it with an open spirit, but who knows with what firm intentions in her heart.

  Sorry for that digression, it was just there when I thought of Miss Austen, ready to spill out.

• Death Comes to Pemberly with Anna Maxwell Martin (a favorite!) as Lizzie and Matthew Rhys as Darcy. The series is based on P.D. James’ book of the same name, and begins with Lizzie married and settled with her son at Darcy’s magnificent Pemberly estate. When there’s a murder in the Pemberly woods, and the dastardly Wickham is the main suspect, Lizzie plays sleuth. So much to like here: a murder mystery, a great cast, and humor and suspense in equal measure. (Quick plug for Anna Maxwell Martin: catch her in the wonderful Bletchley Circle; in Bleak House as the most perfect Esther Summerhouse playing opposite Gillian Anderson’s Lady Deadlock; and more recently in the charming murder-mystery Ludwig.)

• Looking forward to The Other Bennet Sister, a new series about Mary, Lizzie’s less-charming and to my mind, much-abused sister. Mrs. Bennet is played by another favorite actress of mine, Ruth Jones of Gavin and Stacey fame, where she played the unforgettable Nessa. Curious to see how Jones plays the role, especially since the Mrs. Bennet in the 1995 BBC series was played by another Gavin and Stacy veteran, Alison Steadman. Steadman’s very funny Mrs. Bennet keeps her voice at a hysterical pitch, which borders on the unbearable but never crosses over. Jones is going to be entirely different.

• Oscar-nominated short Jane Austen’s Period Drama. Take 13 minutes and watch this delight. The names of the characters are a little too on the nose, but get past that, and you’ll be laughing out loud. What is it about? “The bloody bits.” Many thanks to my friend Ed, father of two daughters and one daughter-in-law, for recommending this to me.

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An Austen Rabbit Hole

If you’re curious about why Mrs. Bennet was so desperate to find husbands for her five daughters, that is, if you want to know more about English inheritance laws at the time of Austen, here’s a good explanation.

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This is much longer than intended, so if you made it this far, thank you for reading! Leave me a comment, share this post, and subscribe if you haven’t already!