The Bones of Pride & Prejudice: Why It Has Lasted

On Votaries I discuss how much my mom loved Jane Austen. 

Here I am reposting from 2019 why Austen's most celebrated novel, Pride & Prejudice, has lasted.  

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There are many reasons why Jane Austen's Pride & Prejudice has lasted, and some of them are unrelated to the actual writing. However, I think the actual writing should get a substantial amount of credit.

A modernized M/M romance version of Pride & Prejudice, Out, Proud, and Prejudiced by Megan Reddaway illustrates why.

Megan Reddaway adapts the locations and characters, specifically the Bennett family, to modern life. The "sisters" are now male friends/roommates sharing a house in a small college town in England. Bingley (Tim) and Darcy (Darius) arrive in the town, where Tim plans to buy an art gallery. The Elizabeth character, renamed Bennett (first name), is attending the local college, where he is majoring in hospitality.

Darius's family home, Pemberley, is now part-family home and part-wedding/convention center. His aunt runs the place (but is not the owner). Darius himself is a lawyer. And the Wickham character is a swarmy guy who attaches himself to a reality cooking show camera crew in order to pick up dirt on people.

Reddaway sticks to the plot points. She also sticks to the character's motivations. Bennett is ticked at Darius for being a jerk in their initial meeting (at a dance club). He acknowledges later that he may have misread Darius's dryly sarcastic comments. He regrets his misreading of Darius's character and his mistaken trust in Wickham. He holds his poor judgment (pride and prejudice) to account for that misreading.

Bennett does engage in an excursion to Brighton (Rosings Park) where he and Darius go rock-climbing together and begin to form a tentative friendship. It backfires when yes, Darius does separate his friend Tim from Bennett's friend, Jamie, who is romantically holding out for a big wedding day. Jamie's reserve and lack of easy emotional connection make it easy for Tim and Darius to doubt his intentions. (Jamie later forgives Tim in a manner that Bennett considers way too accommodating; Bennett then shrugs his shoulders and allows that both Jamie and Tim will have to figure it out on their own.)

Bennett's friend Charlotte does in fact marry a waffling guy, Callum, who owes Bennett money.

Bennett does visit Pemberley--to work. And he does meet Darius's sweet, quiet brother. And he does begin to question what he actually knows. And yes, Darcy's aunt is a bossy, single-minded dragon lady.

Wickham does try to take advantage of non-brothers Kofi and Leon (Kitty and Lydia). However, in one of the book's hilarious twists, although Wickham's smutty movies (with bad editing) put Bennett and his college advisors at risk, Kofi and Leon are entirely indifferent to what people think about them.

However, the targeted characters are forced to consider how much money to pay out to stop Wickham. Darius does, behind the scenes, help the police get Wickham pulled in on other charges.

And the aunt, Catherine Brackenbrough, does try to get Bennett to promise to never date Darius by offering him a potential internship that he really needs. Bennett naturally refuses, which naturally gets back to Darius, which naturally results in him showing up at the house.

All the same elements. I concluded that the reason they work--even updated, modernized, and turned into a M/M as opposed to M/F romance--is because Austen's series of events are organic. They may seem contrived when written out separately (oh, sure, Elizabeth/Bennett just happens to show up at Pemberley) but they really aren't. The world of gentry folk was not that big--people did keep running into each other. The world of hospitality--caterers, hosts, etc.--is not that big either, not for a newly graduated college student looking for a job.

Austen created a realistic series of events that still surprise and delight us without crossing the line into pure melodrama and gaping plot holes. Her characterizations support events and events support characterizations. Although we can see how foolish Lady Catherine is to challenge Elizabeth--and then tell Darcy--Lady Catherine is exactly the type of person who cannot see that she is shooting herself in the kneecaps. She misjudges Elizabeth/Bennett. Her sense of offense leads her to reveal how "rude" Elizabeth/Bennett was to her nephew, Darcy/Darius, who accepts the information as a sign.

Pride & Prejudice truly is a fine work of art. The many, many adaptations--from awful to great--reveal its core strengths. Out, Proud, and Prejudiced takes advantage of those core strengths to produce a worthy tribute. 

A-Z Romances: Z is for Zane and Zhijuan

For Z romance authors, I read a novella and short story. Technically, the second piece isn't romance but as I address below, I found it not only romantic but more religious than the first piece.

The first piece, Sweet Chariot by Carolyn Zane, falls into the genre of Christian romance. It has the merit of being funny (I found it in an anthology Three Weddings and a Giggle) and the set-up does have its positive points: two grandmothers buy a falling-to-pieces motor home and try to go on a road trip with their respective adult grandchildren, who fall in love. 

Unfortunately, like too much religious fiction, the continual references to prayer and faith and God gain a pro forma or performance aspect--an excuse for people to make terrible decisions, place themselves in seriously dangerous situations, leave scrap metal all over a highway, and otherwise behave like people who think God is supposed to save them from themselves. 

The fighting-then-dating couple have fairly good banter. But the relationship is entirely shallow. Arguments about food are left in but the part of the relationship where they get to know each other takes place in the following line: "Lexie and Jake teased and flirted and discussed a vast array of subject matter from politics to religion, from their memories of the past to their dreams for the future."

Yup. That's it. Now they should get married!

They should also supposedly get married because they both learn to focus more on family than their jobs. Unfortunately, these epiphanies are less than believable. Lexie, for instance, blames her phone for distracting her from real values. As someone who ignores her phone and despises social media, I can relate: Phones are bad! 

However, within the story, Lexie uses her phone to do her job. It's hard to see what else she could do. Once the motor home reaches civilization is she supposed to stop being a realtor? Communicate with clients by carrier pigeon? Ignore phone calls about incipient deals? Or will her job problems resolve themselves once she throws "prayer" and "faith" and "God" at them?

The short story is "Lilies" by Ru Zhijuan, translated by R.A. Roberts. It is not directly either romantic (in a couple marrying sense) or religious. In fact, interestingly enough, it seems to be an example of how good storytelling overrides politics since Ru Zhiguan was a supporter of the Chinese Communist Party. 

The two young women in the story see the nineteen-year-old male courier as young and bashful and rather adorable. They both mourn his death. Multiple characters, despite throwing out statements about doing things for "the good of the people," demonstrate appreciation for the individual. The gloss of politics is continually undermined by the narrator's deliberate choices: the young man's awareness of the two women, the married woman's insistence on stitching his shirt and giving up the quilt that, she states emphatically, she made. The story hints at deeper connections, whether the connections are human or social or spiritual.

In the Christian romance novella, on the other hand, the gloss of religion is coated onto the plot yet the end result doesn't feel particularly religious or insightful. Designating characters as prayerful and God-fearing isn't enough to reach either the transcendence of mutual affection or the transcendence of the supernal.       

Shakespeare Couples: Twelfth Night

Despite the disguises, the relationships of Twelfth Night are surprisingly realistic because the personal connections are believable. 

Twelfth Night starring Toby Stephens, the effervescent Imogen Stubbs, and Helena Bonham Carter at her comedic best does a particularly fantastic job in establishing the lead characters' connections.  

Toby Stephens is, to put it mildly, a sexy piece of compact masculinity. In other versions, Orsino is tall-almost-stooping, melancholy and extremely self-pitying. I always wonder what on earth an adventurous, sharp and funny chick like Viola sees in the guy! 

Toby Stephens, however, plays a tautly wound chap who is normally extremely energetic (and witty). He does not so much swoon with love as glower with it, and viewers get the impression, as they should, that his problem is offended pride more than an offended heart. He doesn't really care about Olivia; he's just bored and she's available and he thinks she should like him. He does care about his servant Cesario (in fact, Stephens' reaction as Orsino to Cesario's "betrayal" is gripping and indicates what really matters to him). He is overwhelmingly relieved when Cesario turns out to be female.

Olivia and Sebastian also come across as believable. For one, the relationship seems to be based on Olivia being taken with a pretty boy who chastises her. Arguably, Olivia is simply lighting on the first person who ISN'T Orsino to fall in love with--which is entirely believable behavior.  

At the end, one can only hope that Sebastian is an adequate substitute for, uh, his sister. 

Shakespeare being Shakespeare, one suspects that the problem of substitution IS Shakespeare's point.  

What Makes This Manga Different: Summer Days

Summer Days uses images utterly right! 

I've mentioned elsewhere that the best erotica preserves the characters' personalities rather than delivering a series of romantic tropes. I'm not opposed to the tropes, but they work better when the characters readers love are not swamped by the tropes. 

Summer Days provides Sung Ho and Kwan Haebeom, two very likeable and distinct members of a couple. 

They are both big guys, and the writer/artist Jeong Seokchan keeps their proportions, which I always admire in an artist (I am reminded of the earthy and fully fleshed characters of Yugi Yamada). Sung Ho is far more whimsical, even teasing. Kwan is a kind of Rochester: big and gruff and secretly rather sensitive and romantic. 

Even better, once the two supposedly heterosexual men realized they are attracted to each other, the relationship moves forward at an even pace. Not a great deal of angst. Despite their differences in personality, they share a common focus on getting stuff done--and becoming lovers is, hey, the next step to getting stuff done!  

Delightful storytelling and art.  

Twelve Kingdoms: Interview with the Translator, Children & Teenagers

On Votaries, I discuss youth heroes who save the world. I suggest that they are more interesting if they take action (with the implication that they will make mistakes) rather than merely inspiring people with their innocence. 

In keeping with these ideas, I am reposting one of my interviews with the translator. 

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Kate: Shadow of the Moon ruthlessly dismantles the worldview of a rather ordinary teenager who wafts through life expecting to be catered to and understood.

Do the Japanese have any patience with "snowflakes"? Or is the whole American obsession with teenagers kind of a bemusing oddity? Does Japanese Twitter ever reach the heights of American Twitter in terms of pure angry self-absorption?

Eugene: Of course, manga and anime focus a lot of attention on the teenage experience, but not typically the kind of attention that sets them at odds with the greater society. Love, Chunibyo & Other Delusions sets up the classic conflict between conformity and being "true to yourself," but makes compelling arguments on both sides and doesn't attempt to universalize the conclusions.

A comparison of old adages makes for an interesting exercise in sociolinguistics. In Japan, the nail that sticks out gets hammered down, while in the west, the squeaky wheel gets the grease. They sound similar but are opposite concepts. As illustrated in Rascal does not Dream of Bunny Girl Senpai, the online culture in Japan wields that hammer just as ruthlessly as elsewhere.

The nail that sticks out gets hammered down and the snowflake gets the blowtorch. For good or ill, this is very much a product of gaman culture. You're supposed to get with the program, try hard, persevere, and fit in. A funny example of this is One Punch Man. The most powerful superhero in the universe gets no respect until he gets with the program (including the paperwork) and fits in.

To be sure, trendy activism is alive and well in Japan, ready to be discovered by western journalists, but is not nearly as influential (if at all) beyond the fringes. NHK World, for example, which caters to western audiences, tends to give the latest and greatest woke issues a degree of attention that suggests a prominence inside Japan that simply does not exist outside of select enclaves.

At the end of his "Why You Should Move to Japan" video, Nobita from Japan cites Japan's reluctance to adopt the woke politics of the west as a reason.

Clownfish TV explores the subject in depth here. 

Kate: I'm sure that someone somewhere has written a massive intellectual treatise on the plethora of children in Japanese manga/anime. From a popular culture perspective, what accounts for it? Why do children show up so much in anime/manga/light novels in adult situations? Or as long-lived children? Like in C.S. Lewis, these children experience very little adult hand-holding. Their youth is part of their attraction, not an excuse for their behavior.

Any thoughts? Are wise-beyond-their-years children a trope in Japanese literature, specific to certain authors, part of the cultural mindset?

Are Westerners the outliers, being squeamish (and more committed to the Victorian ideal of innocent childhood)?

Eugene: The most obvious answer is marketing. The editorial content of the numerous manga periodicals and imprints are designed by publishers to target specific demographics. Because consumers of manga and anime outside Japan tend to be older, they often overlook material aimed at younger audiences.

Several of the most popular and long-running anime on Japanese television are practically unknown in North America. Chibi Maruko-chan (over 1200 episodes to date) is a lighthearted melodrama about a traditional Japanese family in the 1970s. The POV character is a nine-year-old girl, so we see that world through her eyes.

There are a lot of authorized videos on YouTube. They're not localized, but it's worth watching an episode or two just to hear Tarako Isono as Maruko.

Delving more deeply into the social psychology of the matter, helicopter parenting simply hasn't become a thing in Japan. Basically, the kind of hands-off approach that kids enjoyed growing up in the American suburbs fifty years ago remains alive and well.

Elementary school students walk to school. By themselves. This expectation that young children can handle such responsibilities is taken as a given. The video at this link above is from a reality show in which little kids are given fairly complex tasks to accomplish by themselves.

In Non Non Biyori, once school is out, there is barely an adult in sight, also true of the elementary school kids in the more urban Den-noh Coil. At the end of Super Cub, three high school girls ride their scooters all the way to the southern tip of Kyushu. By themselves. And then there is the whole school government thing.

All this means that kids in Japan are not only allowed to do more interesting things, but it is easy to push the boundaries a bit and have them do really interesting things. Frankly, the spelunking expedition at the end of The Phantom Doctor strikes even me as crazy dangerous, but it would have been hugely appealing to Edogawa's readers.

In other words, Japanese not only expect more of (and grant greater latitude to) real children, but fictional children as well. It is the freest time of their lives, after all, and should not be wasted. (The girls in Super Cub go on their adventure during the spring break before their senior year, because that's when the fun pretty much ends.)

Kate: I previously taught a course about working women in America. The impact of biology—the reality of bearing children, giving birth and raising children—greatly influenced women’s work (when, how, what) historically and now.

Ono seems far more aware of the connection between work and childbearing than many Westerners. Many laws in the United States directly address many of these issues, but the reality of childbirth—perhaps as it loses its inherent risks—seems to be admitted with a shrug rather than an appraisal of its impact.

Does is that awareness inherent to Japanese culture? Due to its inherent conservatism?

Eugene: There are several long-standing aspects of Japanese culture that do address the inherent problems here in unique ways. First of all, especially among the aristocracy, well into the 20th century, legitimacy was readily conferred upon the offspring of mistresses. The current imperial line descends from one of Emperor Meiji's concubines, not his legal wife (Meiji was the last emperor to have concubines). 

The second is muko-iri marriage, according to which the husband is adopted into the wife's family. This is still relatively common today. "You can't choose your sons but you can choose your sons-in-law." In some cases, sans any children, a family business will adopt a loyal employee to keep the family name alive. The connection between work and childbearing thus becomes a negotiable arrangement.

Japan's current low birth rate and high female employment rate (above the OECD average) suggests that working and childbearing continue to be seen in mutually exclusive terms.Though it should also be pointed out that helicopter parenting is not a thing in Japan, which shifts the burdens of childrearing around. Nobody freaks out about unattended kids out and about in public.

So while contemporary Japanese society has evolved more slowly away from "traditional marriage" as the ideal model for organizing society, the real world is a lot more complicated, and the fictional world has taken full advantage. The working mother and the single mother in melodrama and comedy are ubiquitous at this point, and the single dad has become of late a favored protagonist.

After the Rain features the teenage daughter of a single mom and a divorced dad. The Way of the Househusband is about a stay-at-home dad (who happens to be a former yakuza). No children yet. Speaking of which, Ryuji in Toradora often gets mistaken for a yakuza (like his father), but he's a good kid who looks after his single mom (who works in a nightclub) more than she looks after him.

The responsible kid with the irresponsible single mom (who nonetheless has a heart of gold) is an established trope. Hanasaku Iroha begins with Ohana's mom sending her to her grandmother's country inn while she runs off with her latest boyfriend. In Beyond the Boundary, Akihito would prefer that his mom stay out of his life as she's a demon (not a terrifying demon, a total goofball of a demon).

Of course, you can count on manga and anime to push a concept to its logical extreme, so the preternaturally competent Kotaru in Kotaru Lives Alone is all of five years old.

At least in the fictional realm, raising independent children who can raise themselves is one sort-of solution.

Appearance & Identity in Manga and Other Works

In the manga series, His Favorite by Suzuki Tanaka, Sato was once a short, fat kid who got mocked by his peers (and defended by Yoshida). After time abroad, he returns tall, svelte, and handsome. 

Tanaka captures a basic truth with Sato (which Bronte also captures with Rochester). Whatever his appearance, he still thinks of himself as THAT kid. In fact, as far as Sato is concerned, he IS that kid. 

Sharyn McCrumb explains the psychology here in Missing Susan. Elizabeth MacPherson is on a tour with a woman, Susan, who had a great deal of cosmetic surgery and physical therapy. Susan is entirely exasperating (and is repeatedly nearly murdered). Fellow tour members explain why to Elizabeth:

"I don't think she's used to interacting socially," says one.

Another states, "She hasn't learned how to stop acting like a wallflower. She's only pretty on the outside; she doesn't believe it yet." 

Years ago, a reality show on television had people get plastic surgery. The plastic surgery was inevitably accompanied by therapy. And truth was, people really didn't change. In one episode, 3 sisters had plastic surgery to remove a genetic inheritance, what the sisters themselves referred to as turkey neck. After, the sisters went on a cruise.

And the one sister who was already straight-forward and confident behaved straight-forward and confident. And the other sisters, who were far less confident acted...exactly the same as they did before. 

With Sato, Tanaka captures a true inner issue: self-esteem honestly has little to do with appearance...unless appearance has been incorporated into a person's identity at a much earlier age. Yoshida is a short kid in high school, but he was the tallest in elementary school and still retains those leadership qualities.     

Dysfunctional Relationships: Can Happy Couples Bicker?

Based on multiple long-range studies, the Gottman Institute states that disdain/contempt is a strong indication that a relationship is doomed. 

And generally speaking, I've never bought into the sitcom relationships based on constant put-downs between spouses. When Tim Allen moved from (the successful) Home Improvement to (the successful) Last Man Standing, the wife became less critical. She also became both more independent and more likely to admire her husband.  

Of course, there is Howard and Bernadette on Big Bang Theory, who snipe at each other on a regular basis. For good or ill, I believe in the relationship. One possibility is that Bernadette, despite her small size, is such a replica of Howard's mother--at least in tone--I can accept that Howard has married what he knows. 

To an extent, what is considered contemptuous may depend entirely on the couple: what appears unworkable to outsiders could be entirely workable to insiders.