Pride and Prejudice is one of them. And I don't know why.
I crawl into the Harry Potter series, any Lia Block books, The Wizard of Oz and just about any faerie tale.
I have never been interested in Jane Austin until this book. I have never been interested in that time period or the language of that era. But this book has entranced me! I feel like I have arrived at the party a bit late... but better late than never.
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Perhaps it's the unspoken rules of conduct. Gentlemen treated ladies with respect. Quiet visits in the parlor. People were polite and conversation was an art. But then again, the fiery part of me throws up her hands in frustration and screams, "What is wrong with you people!?", then runs over to Darcy and makes out with him in front of Lady Catherine de Bourg while giving her the finger.
Or maybe it's just the slower pace life went. Music. Books. Conversation. It sounds just lovely. There's time to breathe, time to think. Time for men like Darcy and Bingley. And time to consider, instead of fast moving, make a decision now now now!!
I know that Elizabeth is one of my favorite characters of all time. I want to be like her. (As you might recall my stance on fictitious heroes, she is perfect for the job.) She is smart, confident, defiant in her time and not interesting in bagging a husband. Nothing seems to bother her. When Darcy insults her looks, it's not devastating. She laughs him off as a rude man and moves on. What grace! And most of all, she's funny. She slips in a jab or two into polite conversation so only those most astute would catch it. If I were ever to have children, a girl, I would read this book to her so she might absorb Elizabeth a bit.
I know what happens. I've seen the mini series and the movie. But as I read, I still wring my hands in worry that Darcy and Elizabeth won't end up together. I yell at my book, "Get over yourself! Tell him how you feel!". But that's why it's such a great book; it makes you feel and get emotional about the characters.
But mostly, I love this book because through all the muck, human idiocy and heartache,
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Could it happen to us? Perhaps. Who am I to say? When I get to England and meet my Darcy, I'll let you know.
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