For my Fellow Austen-philes

What is it about Jane Austen that speaks to women over one hundred years later and across the world??

Every time I watch or read Pride and Prejudice, it never fails. Elizabeth Bennett utters some words that meant nothing to me before. Then all of a sudden, I have to lean back, take in a breath, and say “How did I miss that truth before?”

I find it both reassuring and disturbing that these characters speak to me. Disturbed that I can relate to a character whose context is a society where women needed dowries to get married and weren’t allowed to earn their own livelihoods. Reassured that the perplexities and dilemmas that I face are not mine alone. That women have faced them for generations and there must be an enlightened circle of women that can bestow their wisdom on me.

Recently, I watched BBC’s latest rendition of Sense and Sensibility, swept up blissfully in Marianne’s and Elinor’s story of love and loss.

Marianne – who shares her emotions openly – loves without abandon. But, when her heart gets broken, she suffers with just as much passion in public. She makes no excuse for who she is or how she feels, despite the discomfort she causes others with her honesty. It is tortuous to read what Marianne goes through, because she feels fully, without reserve, without holding back. There is a bravery in being so untempered.

But Elinor strikes at a reader’s heart too. She is subject to just as much betrayal and heartbreak, but suffers in silence. In an effort to be true to her sense of fairness for the one she loves, she keeps her heartache to herself. She doesn’t deny what she feels, but she accepts there is nothing to be done. No words of sympathy or tears will do anything for her pain. She just bears it. This type of stoicity and strength, even amidst one’s own loss, fills me with awe.

Over the years, I have alternately identified with these women, sometimes sympathizing with Marianne, other times with Elinor. Watching the latest film version, I was surprised to recognize myself fully in Marianne, only to find later in the week, that I had changed my mind and affirmed, that indeed I was more like Elinor. My opinion of who is braver alternates as does which of them felt things deeper. Then, I realize it didn’t matter. They are both real to me.

That is Jane Austen’s secret perhaps. She realizes that a woman’s soul is not so easily captured. It’s changing. Waxing and waning. Complex. A woman can be Marianne and Elinor. Elizabeth, Emma and Anne. All in one.

Which leads to another gift of Ms. Austen’s. We don’t have to be perfect heroines. We can be well-intentioned but foolish like Emma; judgemental but honest about our own limitations like Elizabeth and vulnerable in a way we can regret for many years – by letting ourselves be persuaded by others’ opinions rather than our own heart – like Anne.

Jane Austen reminds us that despite our mistakes, errors in judgement, and prejudice, we can still have – and deserve – happy endings.

And, after all these years of my mistakes, errors in judgement, and pride … I find that comforting.