One of the problems I have with Austen interpretations is that so often authors use Austen’s plot lines or characters as an excuse to keep from inventing new material, and hten they so rarely stay true to the characters anyways. Elizabeth from Pride and Prejudice will become a murder mystery fanatic worthy of Agatha Christie or a Nancy Drew novel, or the book will stand as a shallow front for a Regency-era romance novel with much more sex than I expect Austen ever encountered. Schine, however, opted for a modernization of the novel with some very interesting twists. Instead of a dead father, the novel opens with the news of the impending divorce of Betty Weissmann and Joe, her husband of forty-eight years. The husband has met a new, younger woman who plays the part of Austen’s step-sister-in-law (I guess I should reread S&S as my grasp on names is appalling) by urging Joe to “be generous” and not leave such a large West Side apartment for the aging Betty to take care of. As a result, Betty moves to her cousin’s loaned cottage in Westport, joined by her two daughters. Miranda is a literary agent who publishes memoirs and has recently been caught in a series of scandals reminiscent of A Million Little Pieces. Annie is the level-headed library director who feels compelled to join her scatterbrained sister and shocked mother to help them manage their finances. The references to Austen are subtle and devoted, but with more than enough modern dialogue and cultural analysis to make this book more than interesting to stand alone.
One reason I think I found this adaptation to be so relevant was its treatment of divorce. One particularly poignant observation comes from Anne, “She almost wished he had died, she realized with shame, for then she would have been able to remember him as he had been, distant but in a quiet, patient, and reassuring way, someone she admired and looked up to and relied on. Instead, he was a living, unreliable, despicable deserter” (Schine 65).
Finally, the novel impressed me by not relying on Austen for the ending, which would have been trite and (especially according to modern standards) implausible. I’ve always felt that Sense and Sensibility is Austen’s most depressing novel – poor Marianne gets a very half-hearted ending. Schine doesn’t bother with remaining true to the letter of Austen. Annie (Elinor) ends up with the Colonel Bradford figure (as the Hugh Grant figure proves less than worthy – accidentally knocking up a young girl is not quite the same as remaining true to a marriage promise made as a youth) and Miranda (Marianne) ends up with the ex-wife of the man who jilted her for a younger woman. An unexpected and more than satisfying end! I think I liked this book because I was ready for something light, but also because she treats Austen with respect without veering towards either extreme of abject obligation or character/plot abuse.
No comments:
Post a Comment