jane austen: the original romance romancier
one can only imagine the sex scenes she could have penned had we let her.
reads
I finished Persuasion this weekend (yes, this is the cover so you can see why it enticed me) and I had kind of an unexpectedly joyous time reading it. I say unexpectedly because, though I love Austen in general, I’m still kind of unlearning a lot of my shitty attitudes towards reading classics and bad overall reading habits acquired in school, so I guess I was just expecting it to be a slog. Instead, now that I get to read for fun instead of reading in a desperate grab for an A-, I have an appreciation for it that I don’t think I would have have had years ago when all I could do was frantically read plot summaries of books I probably would have loved due to spending multiple all nighters writing my horrible thesis. It turns out when you’re not under duress in an insane college environment, learning is fun!
This time, I got to just focus on the plot and treat it like a nice normal book. Through this lens, AND because I’ve devoted so much more time to reading for my own joy and pleasure and have read many a modern romance novel as a result, I now realize that she is the originator of (or at least popularized) pretty much every relevant romantic trope. When you think about it, what’s the most famous enemies-to-lovers tale? Pride and Prejudice. A spicy friends-to-lovers story? Emma. And Persuasion is the ultimate second-chance romance. I even found this very handy guide on the trope correlating to each book.* This is not a revolutionary concept, because there are reasons why adaptations and loose retellings of her work are so prominent in popular media, but it’s a connection I haven’t actually ever really thought about in much detail. Now I wish THAT had been my stupid freaking thesis. Also, please do not send me any fan fiction sex scenes involving Mr. Darcy. Anyways, Persuasion is delightful — I think it’s currently my second favorite in the Austen canon, but I’ll have to reread Emma to be sure of my top three.
I’m now working my way through Say Nothing and I’m really enjoying it. I think I expected it to be a bit dry because it’s densely packed with history and context and all of that, but it’s actually incredibly absorbing. Author Patrick Radden Keefe does such a good job of writing the true and dramatic and tragic events of the Troubles into an engaging story without sensationalizing it. He also somehow manages to keep all the relevant historical figures distinct and equally interesting while weaving them together into a cohesive narrative. That’s incredibly impressive to me — some memoirists can’t even do that.
I’m not even halfway through and it’s already a strong Nonfiction of the Year award contender at the Second Annual readwithmith Awards which I’m not entirely sure is going to happen this year because I simply can’t keep up my old reading output AND there’s still no Romance of the Year!!!!! That’s the most important award!!!!!! I suppose I could give it to Persuasion in a dark horse upset, but that would be cheating due to it being published two hundred years ago and there has to be an eligibility period for this thing or its integrity will be lost. By the way, don’t send me any Mr. Darcy fan fiction sex scenes.
*according to the author of the linked post, Emma is really a boy-next-door romance. discuss!
ulysses corner
Speaking of things published two hundred years ago! Actually, last year was merely the *hundredth* anniversary of Ulysses. When I double-checked this fact, an article popped up called “Why you shouldn’t bother reading ‘Ulysses’ on its 100th anniversary.” I was like, oh, hell yes, give me one good reason and I’m out. Then I realized it was on a Catholic news site and written by a priest scandalized at its “blasphemy” who said, and I quote with glee, “I don’t know what was worse: the gross and ignorant vulgarity of Molly Bloom’s stream of consciousness, or the self-indulgence of a writer who scribbles a 60-page run-on sentence.” This has given me the strength to forge on. Thank you, Father.
Episode Three
Nothing happens in this chapter. Stephen just thinks about a lot of things while he walks on the beach in a very melancholy way. He sees a dog and he thinks about his family and also sees a couple and thinks about sex. This was absolutely incomprehensible to me and everything I just told you I basically gathered from the internet. I think I’m going to have to retire this section of the newsletter because considering this is all I gathered from actually sort of reading the book, this certainly isn’t going to trick anyone into thinking you’ve read it, and, for that, I am sorry.
other media
reality TV corner (corner rapidly developing into this entire section)
I was a bit under the weather last week, so I had the opportunity to not go outside for several days, take my meals in bed, and blow through Below Deck: Sailing Yacht season two as well Below Deck: Sailing Yacht season three. As I write this, I have very nearly finished Below Deck: Sailing Yacht season four. I don’t want to spoil anything for anyone who’s planning on watching Below Deck: Sailing Yacht at any point, but though this season started out slow, it has become perhaps the messiest one yet. Gary’s charm is turning into cringe which is rapidly turning into just being creepy. My Sailing Yacht journey has been full of twists and turns…ebbs and flows…much like the sea…
Also, I hate to shill out for a miserable and problematic franchise, but I’m simply not going to shut up about how good The Bachelorette was this season. It has admittedly been a long time since I’ve tuned in for the finale, but I felt sort of genuinely emotional and sad for the second place guy and happy for the ones who got engaged and am kind of convinced they might actually stay together for a long time?? This is probably more a symptom of me becoming a big massive dumb softy as of late than it is a stellar editing choice (plus a couple of my friends got engaged this weekend and I took a lot of really cute photos of John’s cat napping on my chest so I have to imagine this all contributed), but I’ll still give the show its flowers (its roses, ha ha ha, because they give each other roses wait come on —).
dnfws (did not finish watching)
As part of my treat-yourself-you’re-sick week, I decided that I wanted to watch as stupid a movie as I could find where absolutely nothing remotely serious is even vaguely hinted at. After a long search through the streaming service formerly known as HBO Max, I decided to go bottom-of-the-barrel stupid and went for Dodgeball, a real gritty film I remember greatly enjoying as a youth (probably because Ben Stiller manually inflating his crotch is seared into my brain). In a shock to no one, my tastes have changed in the past 15 or so years and I couldn’t make it through the first twenty minutes. I don’t know who came up with the idea of Vince Vaughn as a leading man, but it’s never worked and it never will. I should have just gone with my regular comfort watch, Popstar: Never Stop, Never Stopping, but I watched that on a mental health day a few months ago and figured I shouldn’t give it a go again so soon, but I’m stupid because that movie could play on a loop on every television in North America for a week straight and I’d still love it.
Immediately after ditching the movie, I figured I’d try another one of Danny McBride’s ventures and took a stab at Vice Principals. I thought it would be totally up my alley, but, honestly, I turned it off at halfway mark of episode two because it just wasn’t that funny. I really like McBride and he is SUCH a fantastically funny actor (plus Walton Goggins aka Uncle Baby Billy is a national treasure), but there’s just something about the way his shows are constructed that doesn’t quite work for me. (Though I suppose The Righteous Gemstones grew on me.) Maybe I’ll finally hit the jackpot on Eastbound and Down.
I’d like to take this moment to take some responsibility and admit that I have been very bad about posting reviews on readwithmith. I want to do a full review of Clint Smith’s Above Ground because it was my favorite read of July, but it’s just difficult for me to review poetry because I don’t really know what “good” poetry is in a structural sense. I’m purely going off of vibes. I guess all books are about vibes in some way. Hot off the presses from your favorite completely professional book critic: Books are vibes. Speaking of vibes, please do not send me any fan fiction sex scenes involving Mr. Darcy in any capacity. Have a nice Wednesday.
And if you can — Maui Wildfire Funds
