Post #91: One Man Book Club (Pride and Prejudice), Concluded

Book Reviews

Sincere apologies for taking so long to conclude this inaugural edition of One Man Book Club, Pride and Prejudice. If you’ve been waiting and grown tired of waiting, blame me, not my intern Zane Kai. Zane has been all over me like bubbles on beer to talk about the last third of the book, the details of which are beginning to elude me, but which I attempted to recall with as much thoughtfulness and detail as would please the ever picky Zane Kai when we chatted in the office the other day over lunch.

Zane Kai (Clicking on his tape recorder, licking mustard from his index finger): Benjamin! Glad we could finally sit down to talk about the last third of Pride and Prejudice. It feels like a million trillion years since we’ve talked about it.

Benjamin: I’ve been really busy Zane. You know that. You work here.

Zane Kai: Of course! But you know me and Jane Austen. Can’t get enough. I’ve been dying to know what you thought of how it all turned out. So…

Benjamin: Honestly, Zane. I feel kind of bad saying it, but…I skimmed the last eighty pages.

Zane Kai: What!

Benjamin: I’m just being honest! I don’t want to lie.

Zane Kai: Well…

Benjamin: Wait, wait. Not because I didn’t like it.

Zane Kai: Then, why…

Benjamin: I don’t know. It just. I mean. I did like it. I sincerely did. I’m glad I read it and, for the most part, I can see why so many people love the book. And why it’s a classic. It’s so well written. And full of great characters and, it’s totally hilarious. That’s actually probably my favorite thing about it, how funny it was. But…it all started to seem a little obvious, don’t you think? It kind of wore me down.

Zane Kai: What started to seem obvious?

Benjamin: The ending, Zane! The ending. Why else would I skim?

Zane Kai: Okay. Gosh. Sorry. You don’t have to yell.

Benjamin: I didn’t yell. You’re so sensitive. This is how I always talk. You should know by now that I’m not mad at you or anything.

Zane Kai: Okay. Sorry. So…the ending.

Benjamin: Right, the ending. Well, I mean, there’s no doubt that they’re all going to get together, the two couples. But Lydia and Wickham. I didn’t see that shit coming. I don’t really get Wickham. He’s a jerk, right? A liar and a thief. But then he’s, sort of, cured by his authentic love for Lydia? I didn’t really follow the arc of his character. It feels like we’re meant to judge him against Darcy the whole time, or to wonder about their relative virtue, except not really because Darcy is so much the better man all along that it feels unfair, even as Wickham is the honorable soldier and Darcy just the moneyed lord. And then when Lydia ends up with Wickham, it feels as if Austen is commenting on Elizabeth in comparison to Lydia. But maybe I’m reading too much into it. I think Austen kind of worshipped Elizabeth if that’s fair to say.

I will say this. By the time it all came down to the inevitable marriages and clarification of being self-involved gossiping blithering idiots, I was more moved by Jane and Bingley getting together than I was by Elizabeth and Darcy.

Zane Kai: Why?

Benjamin: Honestly? I got kind of tired of waiting for Darcy and Elizabeth. This novel kind of gave me blue balls in that this love, which you know is there, and you know damn well is going to eventually come to fruition and in the company of massive forgiving and admitting-I-was-an-idiot kind of talk, takes soooo long to get to that point. I mean, sooo long. At least with Bingham and Jane the drama felt a bit more authentic. Not just in Elizabeth’s head. Still subjected to the same gossip machine and rumor mill that dominated these people’s lives, though. Amazing to think that people would ignore a heart full of love based on conjecture and innuendo. The Victorians would have gone fucking hog wild with Facebook and Twitter.

Zane Kai: What, in the end, do you think the novel is about? Or what is it trying to say?

Benjamin: I don’t know. Self-discovery?

Zane Kai: Not love?

Benjamin: Not as much as discovery. I mean it’s Elizabeth’s novel, right?

Zane Kai: Do you find that satisfying? As the basis for the novel, I mean?

Benjamin: I’m going to answer that question more¬†tangentially by saying it’s unfair for me to judge harshly the terms on which a person does or doesn’t find herself and that self-discovery is a totally legitimate topic for a novel, whether it’s set on Mars or in my local post office. I mean, it’s not Elizabeth’s fault that her life is small and boring. At least boring in my eyes. She might have been searching for herself on the open sea. Or in a war. It doesn’t make the search for self any less authentic that it’s a search that happens mostly in living rooms and bedrooms and over meals and fancy dances. And here’s where Austen really achieved something, I guess. In projecting that urgency on the drawing room. Elizabeth is still out there, doing it, trying to make sense of life, trying to figure out what life is and how she fits into it. Dealing with her crazy family, her own prejudices and limitations. Trying to decide what kind of person she is and wants to be. What kind of man could make her happy. What she needs to overcome to improve as a person. All those things are legitimate characteristics of any search for self. So I guess it’s about that. And love, sure. Fine. And realizing that what’s best for you might be staring you dead in the face, even if you can’t see it.

Zane Kai: Care to give it a rating? Out of five stars.

Benjamin: No. I’m not going to rate it. Who am I to rate it? People have been reading this book for two hundred years. Devouring this book for two hundred years. Adapting and worshipping it. Just call me one more and we’ll leave it at that.

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