Janespotting: Pride and Prejudice (2005 film)

Here, to get you in the mood, play this and listen while you're reading (no need to watch it, just listen):


Before leaving P&P variations behind for a while, I thought I would refresh myself with the most recent film adaptation of Austen's classic. This version came out in 2005 and earned Keira Knightley an Oscar nomination for her portrayal of Elizabeth Bennet. It also has Brenda Blethyn and Donald Sutherland as Elizabeth's parents, and the inestimable Dame Judi Dench as Lady Catherine de Bourgh. It has to condense much of the novel in order to fit into the feature-film length of just over two hours; strangely enough, it is the first feature film to attempt a faithful adaptation of the book. (I can't consider the 1940 version as "faithful," and all the other versions have been television productions.)

I know many purists despise this version of P&P: not only have many characters and scenes been cut out, but director Joe Wright opted to emphasize the "country" part of the Bennets' country home, with livestock wandering through the mud in the yard of this gentleman's estate. I saw this in the theater with a good friend who is also an Austenophile, and she fell asleep halfway through. And of course, many fans add, how could anyone hope to match Colin Firth's definitive portrayal of Mr. Darcy?

Well, I'm not hung up on purity, and Matthew Macfadyen does a creditable job as Mr. Darcy in the two hours given to the story. He's handsome and brooding, of course, and while he doesn't get much time to explore the depths of the character, you can see the pain in his eyes after Elizabeth rejects him. And yes, many of the other characters have been relegated to the background—we don't get to see Mr. Darcy's cutting rejoinders to Caroline Bingley's snarky remarks—but as a result the film is tightly focused on Darcy and especially Elizabeth. It's Keira Knightley's film; this was her first time headlining a movie, although in the two years leading up to P&P she had appeared in films with a total worldwide box office of over $1 billion.

Now, you might think it risky to rest a major motion picture on the shoulders of a 20-year-old actress, but Knightley (good Austenish name!) was actually the first actress to actually be the same age as the character. The star of the 1995 miniseries, Jennifer Ehle, was 26, while the lead of the 1940 film, Greer Garson, was actually 36! Both these actresses make Lizzy a confident, witty, mature woman who is an equal foil to Darcy. While this makes for a very appealing Lizzy, it doesn't cover all aspects of the character. After reading Mr. Darcy's letter and learning the truth of Wickham's past, Elizabeth has this reaction: "She grew absolutely ashamed of herself. Of neither Darcy nor Wickham could she think without feeling that she had been blind, partial, prejudiced, absurd"; she then says, "Till this moment I never knew myself" (Vol. II, Chap. 13).

This is what I find fascinating about Knightley's performance in the role: the sense that Elizabeth has just as much of an emotional journey to make as Darcy does. In the book, we see Darcy's change through his behavior, but Elizabeth's changes are more subtle, affecting her sense of self and her attitude toward Darcy. These aren't the easiest things to show on film, but through closeups on Knightley's expressive face, we see this side of Elizabeth: with her wit and self-confidence undermined by the discovery that she has more to learn about the world, she reconsiders what she knows about herself and her feelings about love. It makes for a very big-R Romantic movie.

So I enjoyed this version of Austen's classic; it may not be as complex and detailed as the miniseries, but it has its own unique angle. (I found Blethyn & Sutherland's interpretation of the Bennets' marriage interesting as well, going beyond caricature.) In addition, it has some interesting direction with really wonderful cinematography. (I know, a sunrise proposal isn't proper, but it's so beautiful!) Adding to the atmosphere is the wonderful, Oscar-nominated score by Dario Marianelli (who would win the Oscar for his next film with Knightley and director Joe Wright, 2008's Atonement). If you played the embedded video at the top of this entry, you've heard the recurring theme on piano that is just lovely; in other parts it is rendered by a chamber orchestra, sounding entirely appropriate to the era. All in all, I've enjoyed watching (and rewatching) this version of P&P. But next week (finally!): I move on to Sense and Sensibility.

Janespotting: Now, with ultra-violent zombie mayhem!

As soon as this project was announced this winter, I knew I had to get my hands on it. It was advertised as 85% of Austen's text, with the remaining text relating more details about how Elizabeth Bennet, a zombie-fighter along with her four Shaolin-trained sisters, meets and falls in love with Mr. Darcy, who is equally skilled in dispatching undead "unmentionables."

Now, that may sound like a completely insane mashup, but I'm a big fan of Max Brooks' World War Z, a wonderful "oral history" of a zombie plague. (I love books about plagues, although they don't have to create zombies to be interesting.) Lately I can't recommend any books to Boy without him turning up his nose, but this one he absolutely loved. He rereads it every other month or so, and ate up Brooks's Zombie Survival Guide as well. So I was totally up for adding some zombie scenes to Austen's classic.

After chasing around the Ann Arbor area to get my copy (it sold out at my local bookstore in less than a day), I read the whole thing in less than 24 hours. As advertised, it was mostly Austen's story and words. But then you'd come across a line about the Bennet girls' martial arts training, or a section where zombies invade the Netherfield kitchens, or a very gigglesome remark about balls. I laughed out loud several times while devouring this book as fast as a zombie slurps down brains.

Here's a sample passage, to give you a little flavor; Lizzy is visiting Charlotte Collins, as in the original, but unfortunately poor Charlotte has been infected by an unmentionable and will soon need to be beheaded and burned before burial:

Why Mr. Darcy came so often to the Parsonage, it was more difficult to understand. It could not be for society, as he frequently sat there ten minutes together without moving his lips; and when he did speak, it seemed the effect of necessity rather than of choice. He seldom appeared really animated, even at the sight of Mrs. Collins gnawing upon her own hand. What remained of Charlotte would have liked to have believed this change the effect of love, and the object of that love her friend Eliza. She watched him whenever they were at Rosings, and whenever he came to Hunsford; but without much success, for her thoughts often wandered to other subjects, such as the warm, succulent sensation of biting into a fresh brain.

What's even more fun? Boy is reading it, too!

Janespotting: Lost in Austen

I had heard inklings about this 2008 British TV miniseries—someone commented about it on an earlier Janespotting post, and I recently read that director Sam Mendes (American Beauty) is producing a film version of it—so I thought I would keep on the lookout for it. The premise sounded fairly intriguing: a modern Austen fan somehow exchanges places with Elizabeth Bennet, right at the beginning of Pride and Prejudice. When I saw a marathon was airing on Ovation TV, I set the DVR and thought I'd watch the four hours over the next week or so.

Whoops. I started watching the first hour on a Sunday night, and got completely sucked in. The main character, Amanda Price, finds herself in the Bennett household and attempts to make the events of the book happen, even though Elizabeth is not there. Because of her modern dress and knack for saying or doing the wrong thing, everything gets messed up. By the end of the first episode, Bingley is infatuated with Amanda, not Jane; Jane ends up married to Mr. Collins; and Charlotte Lucas has left for Africa to become a missionary.

Well, I had to watch the second episode right away, and thought about starting the third, but decided I should get to bed before 11. I went to sleep wondering what would happen, and woke up thinking maybe I'd just watch a little bit. I managed to hold off—I had an assignment due that day—and watched just a little bit at lunch. I finished my assignment and was sucked back to the TV. I devoured episode three and had to leave episode four behind to go help teach TKD class, but all the while I was wondering how in the world they would resolve Amanda's dilemma: would she fix the storyline of the novel—messed up even more in episodes 2 & 3—or would she find a way to stay with Darcy? I wasn't sure which ending I wanted to see, but I was ultimately pleased with it once I got back home and forced the boys to let me finish watching. The DVD goes on sale in a week and I'll be snatching up my own copy.

Give credit to writer Guy Andrews, a longtime British TV screenwriter who will also be writing the film version: it's a wonderful concept, one that I'm sure many readers have imagined. What if I could live in the world of P&P? I bet I could be just like Elizabeth, and have Darcy fall in love with me. This series explores this idea to the hilt, complete with all sorts of anachronistic amusements; yet there are several poignant moments as well. The series somehow re-creates and reimagines Austen's world and characters (many have backstories to discover), at the same time it explores our fascination with it. While there were a few logical holes (for someone who gets thrown out of polite society so often, Amanda keeps getting invited back), I thought it was clever and funny and tender and just plain hard to stop watching; I loved it and I'm sure it will be in regular rotation with my favorite Austen-based DVDs in the future.

If you want a peek, take a look at the trailer here; be prepared, you may want to freeze it around the 1:20 mark, to enjoy the full "wet Darcy" effect.

Janespotting: Bridget Jones's Diary

I'm continuing my romp through Austen-inspired works with this popular book and film. If you're not a huge Austen fan and only casually read this seminal chick lit novel of the '90s, you might not realize that Helen Fielding drew much of her inspiration from Austen's Pride and Prejudice. (Actually, I think the actual quote from her is "I stole Austen's plot.") As you'd expect from the title, the novel recounts one year in the life of British thirtysomething Bridget Jones through her various diary entries. She fights a constant battle against her weight, her cigarette addiction, her desire for a decent boyfriend, and the expectations of her parents and all the Smug Married people around her.

The novel opens in January, with Bridget's parents trying to fix her up at a family party with a divorcee named Mark Darcy. She finds him dreadful and boring at first, but we can tell from his name (Mr. Darcy!) that he'll turn out to be perfect for her. In the meantime, Bridget gets involved with her boss, gets dumped by her boss, switches jobs, and deals with disasters big and small along the way. Her relationship with Mr. Darcy doesn't progress very far, until her mother gets involved with a shady timeshare scheme and Mark steps in to save the day.

With its no-holds-barred, even raunchy, exploration of Bridget's thoughts and feelings—her obsessing over weight and sex and relationships—you wouldn't think this had much to do with Austen besides a few superficial name and plot similarities. But I think it's a very good tribute; a translation, if you will, to modern sensibilities. After all, at heart each book asks its protagonist the same question: when are you going to get married? who will make you happy? In both cases, the answer involves looking past first impressions.

I wanted to add a bit about the 2001 film adaptation, which is one of my favorite film comedies ever. First of all, they managed the delicious irony of getting Colin Firth (see P&P 1995 miniseries) to play Mark Darcy. Then they cast Hugh Grant against type as Bridget's boss Daniel, the caddish Wickham analogue (and he's brilliant). They removed the subplot where Bridget's mother has possibly defrauded her neighbors, so there's no parallel to Lydia's scandal, but in its place they greatly enlarged the Mark Darcy/Daniel Cleaver backstory, making a greater parallel to the Mr. Darcy/Mr. Wickham subplot. Since this gave Colin Firth a great deal more screentime than Mark Darcy got in the book (he appears only briefly until the last two or three chapters), it was an excellent exchange, in my opinion. Add the bonus of actors with posh British accents saying cusswords—something guaranteed to make me giggle—and you've got a film that actually improves on the original book, at least in my opinion. If you're at all a fan of romantic comedies, this one is essential.

Janespotting: Pride and Prescience

I decided to skip ahead to this 2004 continuation of Pride and Prejudice because it's the first in a series—the "Mr. & Mrs. Darcy Mysteries"—that visits each of Austen's works. It's one of my last stops before leaving P&P behind and going on to some of her other works. (I could spend six months with variations of the Darcys, there have been so many continuations, but I think I would lose patience after a while.)

So Carrie Bebris's Pride and Prescience (Or, a Truth Universally Acknowledged) is a mystery that opens on the very day of the Darcy and Bingley weddings. Elizabeth is happy to share the spotlight with her beloved sister Jane, but not so happy that Charles Bingley's sister Caroline, once Lizzy's rival for Mr. Darcy's affections, has decided to announce her own engagement during the celebration. Her intended is a wealthy American who seems devoted to her, even to the point of selling his Louisiana plantation and staying in England. The Darcys postpone their journey to Pemberley to attend the wedding, but find their visit extended when the newly wed Caroline Parrish begins behaving erratically. We see Elizabeth put in the unusual situation of feeling sympathy, not irritation, for the formerly snide Caroline, especially after a trip to the Bingley home at Netherfield turns dangerous for the Bingleys, and fatal for one of the extended party.

It falls to Elizabeth and Darcy to discover who committed the murder and what is behind Caroline's change in behavior. This is where the title comes in: Elizabeth has a "feeling" that something sinister, even supernatural, is behind the events, whereas Darcy will only believe what he can see and prove. (It was a very Mulder/Scully kind of vibe, with the male-female roles reversed.) Eventually they work together to solve mystery and bring the evildoers to justice, finally earning a family Christmas together at Pemberley.

So, how did I think the Darcys worked as sleuths? Pretty well. I got involved in the mystery, and figured out the culprit just a little while before the reveal, which is perfect timing for reading a mystery. (I like to feel smart by figuring it out early, but too early means it gets boring. This was just right.) I liked to see the Darcys interact as a married couple; the point of view was mainly Elizabeth's, but Darcy got a couple of his own chapters as well, and both rang true. The only thing I didn't really care for was the supernatural element—not that it existed, but that the story seemed to rely on it pretty heavily. Still, it was a fun read, and very hard to put down. I look forward to seeing what the author does with characters from other Austen books.

Janespotting: Letters from Pemberley

This 1999 "continuation" of Pride and Prejudice, according to its author, Jane Dawkins, is a "patchwork" of events, ideas, and characters drawn from Jane Austen's own work. Austen did reveal a few future events at the end of P&P, and Dawkins builds on those by taking bits and pieces from Austen's other writings, as well as accounts from family members, and weaving them into an epistolary account of Elizabeth's first year as Mrs. Darcy.

The book consists of 25 letters sent from Elizabeth to her sister Jane, also newly married, recounting her new responsibilities as mistress of Pemberley and the new acquaintances she makes. Many of these new characters are other Austen characters in disguise; they have different names, but you can recognize the situations of Emma, now married to Mr. Knightley; Anne Elliott and her family, of Persuasion; and the widowed mother and daughters of Sense and Sensibility. Now, because Dawkins gives them new names that are also drawn from Austen's life and works, I found it difficult to keep track of which character name belonged to which situation. Still, it gave the work an air of familiarity that I found enjoyable.

There's no great plot to this novel; as a series of letters, we get news in bits and pieces. We hear of the events foreshadowed at the end of P&P, such as Kitty's moral improvement, Georgiana's fondness for Lizzy, Lydia's entreaties for money, the birth of a son to the Collinses, and the Bingleys' move to Derbyshire. Other events seem to follow naturally, such as Jane's and then Elizabeth's pregnancy announcements. The final event, a betrothal involving Georgiana, didn't really ring true, but it didn't completely strain credulity, either. And by using the epistolary* form, Dawkins only has to re-create Elizabeth's voice in the letters, and she does so creditably well.

So overall, I'd have to give this "continuation" a favorable rating. It's short, light, and hews very close to Austen; while there's nothing particularly new that would shock (or delight) the Austen fan, it felt very comfortable. You could do worse if you're looking for something Austenish to read.

*I love the word "epistolary," and wish I had more chances to use it, but not many people write novels in letter form any more.

Janespotting: Pemberley/An Unequal Marriage

I'm continuing my reading of "sequels" to Austen's work, in this case to Pride and Prejudice. British novelist Emma Tennant published these two works in 1993 and 1994, making them two of the first in the flood of Austen sequels. Tennant has a very good reputation as a writer, bringing feminist and fantastic elements to her work, but these sequels aren't thought of very well by Austen fans. Nonetheless, they're early and my library had them, so I thought I'd give them a try.

The first sequel, Pemberley, takes place about a year after Darcy and Elizabeth's marriage. Elizabeth is preparing to host the entire extended family for the holidays—all the Bennets, including silly Mrs. Bennet and flighty Lydia, as well as the snooty Lady Catherine de Bourgh. It's a challenge to Elizabeth as hostess, made more difficult by the fact that she has yet to bear Darcy a child, a fact everyone seems to be remarking on. In dealing with personality conflicts between her family and Darcy's, Elizabeth comes to believe that Darcy is hiding a secret from her. In the end, she discovers it has all been a misunderstanding, and all is resolved happily.

The second sequel, An Unequal Marriage, takes place almost twenty years later. Elizabeth is preparing to host most of the extended family for the wedding of Darcy's friend and cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, a task made more difficult by the fact that their son, Edward, has reportedly disgraced the family by incurring some gambling debts. In dealing with personality conflicts between Fitzwilliam's new bride and Darcy's family, Elizabeth comes to believe that Darcy has hidden the truth about Edmund, and is disinheriting him. In the end, she discovers it has all been a misunderstanding, and all is resolved happily.

Now, if what you loved about the original Pride and Prejudice was seeing Elizabeth agonize over misjudging Darcy, worry for pages and pages about her mistake, and then have it all resolved with one conversation, then you might enjoy these books. If you are like me, however, and find the characters' journey to be the interesting part of the original novel, you might not enjoy watching Elizabeth turn into a self-doubting, humorless worrywart who won't communicate with her soul mate for over 100 pages. After all, there was an element of truth to Elizabeth's original judgment of Darcy—he was too proud, and he changed to earn her love. In these books, Elizabeth's judgments are wrong, and everything is all a misunderstanding because she and Darcy don't communicate. So while these books do fairly well in creating the scenery and language of Austen's world, I find the characters too unlike the originals to really enjoy them.

That's okay, there are still two dozen more sequels for me to sample (although I'm not going to consume them all at once, just to preserve my sanity).

Janespotting: Presumption, by Julia Barrett

This 1993 novel, written by a journalist and a novelist under the pseudonym of Julia Barrett, was my first foray in the world of Austen sequels. It is a sequel to Pride and Prejudice, and revisits most of the characters from Austen's classic. It takes place not long (maybe 18 months) after Darcy and Elizabeth's marriage, and focuses mainly on the character of Darcy's younger sister, Georgiana. Although as a rich heiress she has no need to marry, she encounters two potential suitors in the book. One, the attentive Captain Heywood, is related to the family through the de Bourgh side and has honorably served in the Royal Navy. The other, the architect James Leigh-Cooper, is brilliant and intriguing, but socially little better than a tradesman. I leave it to you to guess which one ends up capturing Georgiana's heart in the end; as you read, it doesn't take more than a chapter or two to figure it out.

Overall, I enjoyed this more than I thought I might. Part of it was the attitude of the authors: they announce in their title that they know they are undertaking an impossible task in writing a sequel to a classic, thus earning my sympathy from the onset. The writing strives to be like Austen, and achieves real wit in a couple places; it wasn't particularly memorable, but it doesn't get in the way of the story, which is the least good writing should do. As far as the characters, they stick closely to Austen's originals—perhaps excepting Georgiana, now less shy and even somewhat determined, but whose improvements are ascribed to growing maturity and the influence of Elizabeth. This makes sense for the story; someone has to grow and change, or there's no impetus to the plot.

Although the story itself was predictable, that's not necessarily a bad thing; you read a book like this for the sheer entertainment of it, not for any deep contemplation of the human condition. And as a light romance, it was perfectly accessible. It didn't besmirch Austen's characters, just posed an enjoyable answer to the question, "What might have happened next?" So if you're inclined to try other author's explorations of Austen's world, this isn't a bad place to start.

Janespotting: Oh, Mr. Darcy! (P&P 1995 miniseries)

That's right, ladies, it's time to fetch your fainting couches: I'm writing about the 1995 BBC/A&E miniseries of Pride and Prejudice, starring Jennifer Ehle and (sigh!) Colin Firth. This is the version that is almost universally beloved, and for good reason. At five hours, it has the time to be completely faithful to the novel. All the characters we love are there, fully developed, and in some cases we see a little more that is in the novel.* Luckily, the writing is faithful to Austen's wit, too, and the pacing is so good that it is really difficult to stop watching once you start. Looking at where they placed the breaks for the miniseries, originally broadcast in six parts, provides a great lesson on pacing and cliffhangers:

1: Lizzy and Jane leave Netherfield; Mr. Bingley could be in love with Jane
2: Lizzy refuses the proposal of Mr. Collins, upsetting her mother
3: Lizzy refuses Mr. Darcy—she didn't even know he was in love with her!
4: Lizzy leaves Pemberley after seeing Darcy again—could he still love her?
5: Lydia's scandal is resolved, but Lizzy worries that Mr. Darcy might still think ill of her
6: Happily married, Lizzy and Mr. Darcy kiss (swoon!)

Of course, we wouldn't be sucked into the story so completely if we didn't fall in love with the characters. Brilliant perfomances abound; even the minor characters have been cast with care. Jennifer Ehle is a charming, witty Lizzy; even when she isn't speaking, her eyes sparkle. (Since Darcy's first admission to finding her interesting is in contemplating her "fine eyes," this is more important than it sounds.)

The performance that makes this the definitive Pride and Prejudice, however, is that of Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy. It is Darcy's character, after all, who makes the greatest journey: from arrogant indifference to thwarted lover to earnest friend. Firth makes this change evident; what is more remarkable is that he does it without very much dialogue. He doesn't say much, instead managing show Darcy's subtle changes through a pointed look, a slight smile, a raised eyebrow. Of course, it doesn't hurt that Colin Firth is totally dreamy, tall, dark, and handsome.** For many people, Firth is irrevocably connected with the character—just ask Helen Fielding, whose Bridget Jones's Diary, loosely based on Pride and Prejudice, made him the focus of Bridget's obsession. (This connection hasn't hurt his career, as he's gone on to appear and star in many big films, including The English Patient, Shakespeare in Love, Mamma Mia, and, most ironically, as Mark Darcy in the aforementioned Bridget Jones's Diary.)

For anyone who loves Austen, period drama, romance, or just plain good storytelling, you could do worse than sit down with a bottle of wine, a box of chocolates, and the DVD of this miniseries of Pride and Prejudice.

*You'll notice that while purists complain about other versions that leave out characters or subplots or change the details of the setting a little bit, you never hear someone say, "Mr. Darcy never would have dived into a lake and appeared in a wet shirt—they should have left that bit out."
**See above regarding the bathing and fencing scenes.

Janespotting: Pride and Prejudice (1940 film)

I was curious what I would see in this first film adaptation of Austen's classic. Two things piqued my interest: Laurence Olivier starring as Mr. Darcy, and a screenplay co-written by Aldous Huxley, author of the classic dystopia Brave New World. On the other hand, it was produced in 1940 by MGM, home of big technicolor spectacles and noted for their star system. They had originally wanted Clark Gable and Vivien Leigh to rekindle their magic from Gone with the Wind, but Gable turned down the part because he felt he wasn't suited to it. When Olivier stepped in, MGM replaced Leigh with Greer Garson, feeling that the married Olivier's affair with Leigh might produce bad publicity for the film (although they later divorced others to marry each other). So, two future Oscar-winners as Lizzy and Darcy, and an iconoclastic intellectual as co-screenwriter. Might this be a good film adaptation?

After viewing the film, my answer has to be: yes and no. Is it a good film? Well, the acting is well done. The story is has a quick pace. The set direction won an Oscar, and the music is charming. The costumes—well, it was a little bit of a shock to see Civil War-style hoop gowns and huge hats, but MGM was being economical by reusing frocks from Gone with the Wind. Greer Garson brings wit and charm to her Lizzy, and Olivier is brooding and handsome enough as Darcy. The supporting players are passable, and if you wanted a lighthearted romantic romp, this might do very nicely.

Ah, but is it a good adaptation? Sadly, I have to report the answer is, "Hell, no." Now, I'm no purist; I'm not one to complain just because a scene or character has been cut. And quite a bit of material is cut in this version of P&P, mainly Darcy's letter explaining his behavior and the whole section where Lizzy visits Darcy's estate and begins to fall in love with him. In this version, Darcy proposes while Lizzy is visiting the Collinses; she refuses him; and immediately upon her return home, she discovers her sister Lydia's disgrace. Only then does Darcy reveal his true association with Lydia's seducer Wickham to Lizzy, and immediately after he leaves, Lizzy decides, "Oh! I was actually in love with him all along!"

Urg. As I mentioned in my analysis of the original book, for me the appeal of P&P lies in the way the lead characters (especially Mr. Darcy) grow and change. Through Darcy's letter, Lizzy realizes her prejudice has led her astray, and her rejection of Darcy leads him to amend his proud ways. In this film, though, we don't see Lizzy agonize over her mistake, and we don't see Darcy try to make amends for his earlier behavior. Worst of all is what they do with Lady Catherine's character. In the book, she is against the relationship between her nephew and Lizzy, and threatens to stop it. In this film, she only pretends to object, in order to assess Lizzy's true feelings, and in fact brings them together, telling Darcy "she is the kind of woman you need." Oh, and she does this at the same moment that disgraced Lydia and her new shotgun husband arrive at Longbourn, in the kind of full-cast drawing-room scene that demonstrates this version's genesis in a stage adaptation.

After that, it's all downhill. We see Mary and Kitty with their own suitors, and Mr. and Mrs. Bennet happily assessing the marital prospects of their brood. It's all very cheerful and neat and completely lacking in interesting emotional complexity. In other words, a typical romance film of the time. If I had seen this and thought it represented Austen's work, I could have been excused for thinking I didn't need to read any further.

Happily, though, I have other adaptations to consider. And next week, I shall go with the pinnacle, the epitome, the ultimate of all Austen adaptations: the 1995 BBC miniseries starring Jennifer Ehle and Colin Firth.

Janespotting: Pride and Prejudice (Austen's original)

Of course I have to start my Janespotting feature with Austen's Pride and Prejudice, first published in 1813. Although it wasn't her first novel written or published, it is first in the hearts of most Austen fans I've met. Austen sets the stage with her opening sentence: "It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife." After this wry observation, we are introduced to the Bennet family, who have five daughters and no sons; with the estate legally obligated to pass to a male heir, this means marriage is the only means for the Bennet girls to maintain, let alone improve, their lot in life. So when the aforementioned rich, single Mr. Bingley comes to their neighborhood, Mrs. Bennet is determined one of her daughters should snag him. It is likely to be Jane, the eldest, who is so beautiful and virtuous we should hate her, but her kind heart and sensible nature make it impossible to inspire anything but fondness. (And when she finally does snag Mr. Bingley, we rejoice for her.)

Jane is the favorite sister of the second Bennet daughter, Elizabeth, aka Lizzy. Lizzy Bennet is one of Austen's most beloved heroines, and for good reason: she has all the good qualities we ourselves would like to have. She is pretty but modest about her talents, similar to Jane. She is witty and can take a joke, unlike middle sister Mary. She is also sensible when it comes to romance: she is determined she will only marry for love, but she is not obsessed with men, unlike youngest sisters Kitty and Lydia. Although she is introduced to our romantic hero, Mr. Darcy, in the third chapter of the book, she is unmoved by his wealth and status or even his avowed love for her until the last third of the book. Lizzy does make mistakes—it is her prejudice that leads her to overlook Mr. Darcy's good qualities—but she triumphs over them at the end. Who wouldn't want to be Lizzy: intelligent, independent, humorous, pretty, and lucky in love?

Some people will admit to preferring other Austen heroines, especially Emma, but I've rarely heard someone choose anyone other than Mr. Darcy as their favorite Austen hero. Now, that might have something to do with Colin Firth's swoonworthy portrayal in the 1995 BBC miniseries, but somehow I don't think so. It isn't just that Mr. Darcy is handsome, rich, and has excellent taste in women—how could we not love him when he is so head-over-heels with our beloved Lizzy? No, I think Darcy's appeal boils down to the journey his character takes during the course of the novel.

Think about it. We see Darcy through Lizzy's eyes, and he begins the novel by overlooking her and demonstrating his arrogance. When he first proposes to her, he expects to be accepted and is surprised at Lizzy's refusal. She tells him, "From the first moment ... of my acquaintance with you, your manners impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others, were such as to form that groundwork of disapprobation on which succeeding events have built so immovable dislike."

Wow. That's pretty harsh. But does Darcy turn ugly, become a stalker, or refuse to think of her again? No: he listens to what Elizabeth has to say, and then he changes his behavior in order to win her. (And she didn't even have to ask, let alone nag!! You didn't know Austen wrote fantasy, did you?*) After Lizzy gratefully accepts his second proposal, he tells her, "What do I not owe you! You taught me a lesson, hard indeed at first, but most advantageous. By you I was properly humbled. I came to you without a doubt of my reception. You showed me how insufficient were all my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased." So in Mr. Darcy we have a man of mostly good qualities who is inspired by love to reform his few bad ones. No wonder we find him so appealing, and why Pride and Prejudice has been a favorite with generations of readers.

Oh, and also popular with generations of filmmakers; I'm going to check out film adaptations of P&P next. First up: the 1940 MGM production with Greer Garson and Laurence Olivier.

*I'm kidding, of course. I generally have a good opinion of the male gender. And who knows, after they got married Darcy might have annoyed Lizzy by constantly ruining his clothes taking dips in Pemberley's pond.