So I read not one but two romances titled What would Jane Austen Do?
The second gets kudos for actually being written by a Brit, with authentic food (hobnobs—that's only a verb where I come from, frex, but it's a cookie, excuse me, biscuit in the UK. Evidently. As are digestives...but I digress.) and slang—naff, say—and local politics, such as Council (public) housing, and other forms of colour, such as the local festival that forms the core of the action.
Briefly, the portagonist, a dyed in the wool Londoner, inherits a house in country from her black-sheep uncle, whom she knows only as the family flake—just in time, too, as she's lost her job as an Agony Aunt (Jane), i.e., an advice columnist.
I was frankly wondering what qualified this woman for the position to offer advice on (romantic) love and marriage since she has neither (let alone kids) but what do I know? Anyway. She moves to the rather decrepit mansion & its inadequate maintenance budget, which induces her to take in a lodger, a successful mystery writer who's got no patience for romance (which, fine) nor (in his stories) character development (wha?)
There's a bit of a mystery as to how her uncle Nigel acquired his fancy place, which was mostly interesting in that I lived through that period (the 70s) and wondered what famous (US) band the fictional one was based on—Eagles, mebbe?
Moving on.
The main character seems undeveloped—young, like a teenager even though she's —I guess?—in her late 20’s. Certainly, prone to crying easily, which is something (in my experience at least) seems to be more common amongst the young. The male lead initially came off as somewhat introverted and possibly on the spectrum, which sure, I can buy that, especially as some Austenites/Austen fan writers have speculated Darcy was, in fact, on the spectrum. Except at the end this version totally becomes an expert speaker & people person, in sharp contrast to his rather misanthropic character for most of the book. He's also impossibly handsome and built, though we never see him working out, not even, say, jogging—I mean, these are the kind of people who seem to drive a mile or two, instead of walking or riding a bike, despite living in the country where fresh air and comparatively quiet roads would encourage more outdoorsy enjoyments.
But naw, male protag needs an excuse to show off his Jag. (Why? Darcy rather makes a point of not showing off his wealth—certainly not horses or coaches: that's left to his unpleasant Aunt, who wishes to intimidate Elizabeth.)
Hooray for female leads falling in love with cute men, but what did he see in her, besides a shared, over the top affection for his dog (said dog's character was also bland and unsatisfying—why were they gaga over an animal whose most distinguishing trait was being an escape artist? That's not something pet owners, in my experience, enjoy very much, cuz they're too worried sick.)
Uncle Niges's circs and behaviour made the least amount of sense—I can't imagine the memorabilia for any rock song, no matter how famous, financing the purchase and upkeep of a large country house and grounds (not to mention the maintenance of its owner & his support for a local festival for years—decades—on end.) Nor why Nigel's lover didn't divorce her unloved spouse and marry the father of her child (IIRC—I'm too lazy to go back & double check) I mean, this wasn't exactly kind to the man she did marry. Nor why Nigel didn't leave his estate to his beloved, instead of his niece, whom he'd never met. Instead we have this weird sitch where if the niece doesn't satisfy the will's conditions, then the house goes to the lover.
It's just what Mary Robinette Kowal calls refrigerator logic all the way around. But the worst, most unforgivably awful sin was an endnote apologiizing for the chapter headers: supposedly Jane Austen quotes, but the author admits to getting them off the internet, and despite checking, says some from assorted movies might've slipped through. Wait, wut? You didn't actually read the books?!? Or even, yanno, take advantage of the fact that they're all in the public domain to fact check your quotes?
For shame!
It was a reasonable beach read, but needed a bit of the sharp awareness Austen brought to her books (& characters). Or at least, more editing.
The other novel was in my opinion more successful—with more believable characters, despite time travel, ghosts, and other paranormal improbabilities (such as finding—and being allowed to keep, which I think much harder to do in the UK—a fortune in antique jewels). This one featured a regency era costume designer who travels to a British country house for a conference in the hopes of building up her business.
The novel also features a bit of a mystery, but it's not very difficult to figure out where the plot is going, especially when the protag starts wishing for mod cons—and as someone who would probably either lose all my teeth or die of cancer were I transported back to the early 1800s, I can sympathize—but if she was so sure she was gonna return to her own time, why was she not scarfing down absolutely every period detail she could lay hands on, especially as a costume designer? There are all these people on youtube discussing that sort of thing, if tracking down books on period details is too daunting.
But as a proper fairy tale romance I thought it worked pretty well, despite the heavy handed foreshadowing. The lead (& her author) had a proper appreciation for Austen, which I duly appreciated, though I don't know that the lead was really able to embody Austen's wit (not to mention her sharp social observations.) Which I guess goes to show that truly answering this question is actually pretty darned difficult, though the secondary basis of the title—hey, Austen fans, try this! worked well enough, especially for the second book.
Believe I read ’em both on Libby, or mebbe one on Libby and the other on Hoopla, because, sadly, our local library branch is still closed, its re-opening date having been pushed back again.
Unless otherwise noted, text, image and objects depicted therein copyright 1996--present sylvus tarn.
