Saturday, September 23, 2006

Required Reading....

In many ways, my semester this fall is seriously lacking: history filler courses, seven hour midday breaks, all the "core requirements" that I put off until now. But there is one thing, which pretty much redeems the rest - I am studying the 19th Cenury Novel. So, for "homework", I get to come home and read Jane Austen.

There is just something about Austen's sardonic wit, and rich cariactures that makes me happier than I can describe. The amazing thing is, her characters are all around you. While I read the book, I just kept on writing names next to the descriptions (Was your name in there....now you're wondering...haha) Yet we don't speak like they do, with biting wit and clever come backs. I just wish I could for one day.

So for the Austen readership (or "watchership") I pose this question: do you see yourself more as an Elinor or a Marianne? And which male character truly stole your heart? There was some debate in class, and I'd like to know some other opinions. Thanks for humoring me and my literature posts. I just can't help myself.

4 comments:

Christy Childers said...

iiiiii like to think of myself as more like elinor, but i think my sister would say it's the other way around. probably a few years ago i was like marianne, & now i'm like marianne at the end of the book/movie, who's changed & learned a few things, or at least i hope so... do i take jane austen discussions a little too seriously? yes i do. oh man, i could talk about this forever.

Kiki said...

I had a friend at camp who described our penchant for loving Darcy too much as "the female equivalent to porn" because we put him on a pedastal and no man could ever match up. is this dangerous? possibly. necessary? absolutely. read on.
your thoughts? how do i rebuke such an insolent thought?

Ben S. said...

how's the hiking assignment going? feel free to comment on my latest post...

the tapered pant said...

I really, really, really love that you love Austin. I think I mostly love it because it makes me feel a liiiiiittle less guilty about not really loving it myself. Because if a literature conoisseur such as yourself can still like me, maybe there's hope afterall. And maybe I'll read Sense and Sensibility...