A Trio of Books

Mr. Darcy Broke My Heart by Beth Pattillo
Guideposts Publishing 2010, 268 pgs.
3 Bonnets.

First and foremost, a sincere thank you to Laurel Ann at Austenprose. I won this book in a giveaway from Austenprose in February and just got to it late last month.  Like I've said earlier here, I'm just getting back in the saddle and that includes getting back on the reading bandwagon.

I had the pleasure of reading this darling novel on a Saturday afternoon during my freetime (aka naptime).  It was a quick, delightful, fun read.  Albeit, I did bristle at the thought of the missing manuscript alluding to such a different story to P&P.   It irked me and didn't feel true to anything Dear Jane could ever have written.  Ever.  I also thought Claire's naivetee was a bit overdone.  She was just a bit too clueless about her own life and awareness for my taste, although that doesn't make her story and journey not true or realistic for others.

Summary:  Claire Prescott is a young woman who takes her sister's place at a summer seminar on P&P at Oxford University.  Claire doesn't get the Mr. Darcy thing that most P&P devotees seem to get so she's not that excited about the seminar.  In the meantime, between  finding herself befriending an elderly English woman who might just have a long lost Jane Austen manuscript hidden in her home, and meeting her own Mr. Darcy, Claire must come to terms with some personal problems of her own--her her American boyfriend showing up in Oxford unexpectedly.

According to Jane by Marilyn Brant
Kensington, 2009. 269 pgs.
4 Bonnets (No period costumes here, but some great 80's and 90's references and wit to make Jane proud!)

Now here's where it gets embarrassing:  another sincere thank you to Stephanie at Stephanie's Written Word & Marilyn Brant (author and blogger at Brant Flakes) for my copy of this book. It's even an autographed copy! I ummmm, errr, think I won this book late last fall.  I know.  Please don't say anything other than the look you are giving me right now.  I know.   If you only knew how deep my reading pile is and I don't blog about everything I read.  I need to take a course in speed-reading.
Le Sigh...

According to Jane begins in Ellie Barnett's sophomore English class.  Her teacher has just handed out P&P to read, the obnoxious Sam Blaine is ruthlessly teasing and snapping Ellie's bra and there it is--a "tsk" from out of nowhere.  It happens again.  And this is how Ellie comes to hear Jane Austen's voice inside her head.  Turns out Jane has been waiting quite a while to give advice to someone and Ellie is just the person.  Told from Ellie's perspective, with snippets of she and Jane's conversations, readers grow up and move from relationship to relationship with Ellie and Jane as Ellie searches for The One with Jane's guidance, all the while staying away from Ellie's Mr. Wickham, Sam Blaine. Or is he? 

Outlandish? Yes.  A bit strange at first?  Yes.  Delightful in it's originality? Yes.  This novel is an enjoyable read.  I enjoyed Ellie as she tries so hard to figure out relationships and find some kind of peace which seems always just out of reach.  It irritated me that Jane Austen was incredibly prejudiced against Sam Blaine, so much so that Ellie struggles to listen to her own voice.  It made the reader wonder what Ellie's relationships would have been like without Jane's ever present voice inside Ellie's head.  Would she have made different choices?  Would she have learned to follow her own heart and gut much earlier?  My only small hang-up with the novel was that it was a bit predictable (it's pretty clear that Sam Blaine is Ellie's Mr. Darcy), but it didn't detract from the novel for my taste.

The Season by Sarah MacLean
Orchard Books, 2009. 343 pgs.
Young Adult Fiction
2 Bonnets

Summary: Place--Regency England 1815.  17 year-old Lady Alexandra Stafford is about to take part in her first "social whirlwind of a London season."  Alex, along with her two best friends, Ella and Vivi are engaged in balls, dinner parties, dress fittings and weekends in the country.  All the while they are trying to figure out how the marriage market of a season works.  Amidst it all the hustle and bustle of the season, they get involved in the Earl of Blackmoor's death by helping his son, Gavin, with the mystery of his father's death.  

This novel was more than predictable for me.  Alex and her girlfriends dread the London season and the ton.   They do everything in their power to escape dreadful suitors.  They get into some trouble with their mother's because they are avoiding suitors.  They get involved in a murder plot.  One could see the next point in the plot before the next chapter.  I had the plot of the book laid out in my head with just a few chapters in.  MacLean does a good job of explaining the season, high English society and customs of Regency England, but for this reader it was nothing new and bordered on a boring.  Granted, it is a young adult fiction novel and it a good romance novel without inappropriate content for younger audiences.  And so it receives 2 Bonnets for being a bit bland for my taste, but also hints and mentions of Jane Austen.

Back in the Saddle

I keep singing Gene Autry's song, "Back in the Saddle Again."  I can't get this song out of my head lately.  It's just stuck there.  And it might be because I'm feeling Back in the Saddle Again for several reasons...

1. Literally, I am back in the saddle. My bike saddle that is.  My bike has been taken down from it hanging space in our garage and has been dusted off.  After a hiatus (a pregnant summer and well, no real excuse last summer other than no free time), we've attempted to ride again. On Memorial Day we did our annual Memorial Day ride.  Rather than go for what had become our annual excursion to Elm Creek Park Reserve and do a nice long ride complete with DQ  (because we'd earned it!), we changed our tune this year.  We added a Burley bike trailer (thank you, Craigslist!) and a toddler to the mix.  We rode a whopping four miles along the Rice Creek  and had a break at the playground and it was quite delightful.  And hilarious as said toddler had to keep lifting her helmet up to look out and then she fell asleep a block and half from home.

There have been several other attempts at this biking business since then.  My computer got an update (um, errr, I made have needed to update a setting starting with the letter W, um, errrr....), the toddler hasn't fallen asleep any other time and now when we say let's go for a bike ride, she points to the yellow Burley trailer hanging from our garage rafters. And let's just say that my saddle can tell that we are back in the saddle again.  Ouch!

2. I tried on some pants that were packed in a galaxy far, far away just before school got our for the year and lo and behold--they fit.  I knew there was a reason to keep them for two years...Back in the saddle--need I say more?

3.You can tell summer is here.  I am attempting to read blogs again and read and read and read (both for work and for pleasure).  Can you say back in the saddle again?

4. I am also excited about 2 fabulous online Janeite opportunities.

The first: An online read of Pride and Prejudice sans zombies hosted by Laurel Ann at Austenprose.
I offer you the reading and event schedule here--do be sure to check out her clever image for this group read.  If you know the zombie cover, then you should appreciate the image. 

The second, Stephanie at Stephanie's Written Word has done it again!---Everything Austen II Challenge!  Second verse, same as the first.  Maybe this time 'round I'll actually read some non-fiction like I'd challenged myself to do for the first go 'round.  Now I must go read some P&P, naptime is almost over and I've got a schedule to keep for this group read thing.

Slow Down, You Move Too Fast

Mitten Strings for God: Reflections for Mothers in a Hurry by Katrina Kenison.
Warner Books, 2000. 222 pages.

I was introduced to Katrina Kenison via an email forward of this fabulous poem/reflection. 




The poem resonated with me.  Our fleeting lives.  Our fast paced, breakneck lives.  How fast our children grow and change. After investigating a bit further about the author of the poem, I was pleased to discover she’d written a series of reflections about motherhood.  I found her writing easily accessible and captivating—transported to a simple, easier time. I laughed out loud (always a treat when reading a book, a laugh out loud moment means the author has done his or her job at humor— very well indeed!) and cried a bit when I could relate to her yearning to slow down and one story about trying to get dinner ready while trying to deal with her then 2 and 4 year olds. (She resorted to putting the little one in the sink to play. I have yet to do that…But these are daily questions, tensions, and issues in my family due to working full time, although we only have just one little sprite to follow around.)  Kenison is a part stay at home mother, part time editor; a believer in simplicity, and Waldorf education.  She mentions and quotes the writings of Anne Morrow Lindbergh, Louise Erdrich, & Mother Teresa.  Virginia Wolf’s soft whispers were there, too, but not directly quoted.

Her writing resonated with me so much that I came up with seven pages of typed notes and quotes from her book.  Here are a few passages that spoke to me:

“I have learned to quick speeding through life, always trying to do too many things too quickly, without taking the time to enjoy each day’s doings. I think I always thought of real living as being high.  I don’t mean on drugs—I mean real living was falling in love, or when I got my first job, or when I was able to help somebody, or watch my baby get born, or have a good morning of really good writing. In between the highs I was impatient—you know how it is—life seemed so Daily.  Now I love the dailiness.  I enjoy washing dishes.  I enjoy cooking, I see my father’s roses out the kitchen window, I like picking beans.  I notice everything—birdsongs, the clouds, the sound of wind, the glory of sunshine after two weeks of rain.  These things I took for granted before.” –pg 10-11 from friend Olive Ann

On Healing:

“To an adult, a Band-Aid may be nothing but a sticky plastic strip; but to a child it is a badge of honor, imbued with magical healing properties.  Be grateful, and stock up.” Pg 101

☺ Need I say more on that quote?

On Nurturing:

"In the moment my first son was delivered out of my body and into my arms, the world tilted.  Miraculous life!  How fiercely I loved him, and how urgently I plunged into my new vocation, this career of the heart called motherhood.  At the time, I had no idea how I would nurture this tiny infant through his journey into manhood.  Don’t spank? Spend quality time? Build self-esteem?  Buy organic food? These were the themes of the parenting books I had poured over through nine months of pregnancy.  But how little I really knew, as we embarked on our new life together.  And how quickly, it seemed, the days were eaten up by the details of parenthood—feeding, diapers, ear infections, housework…It took a long time for me to begin to develop anything that might be called a philosophy of mothering.  Most night I felt it had been all I could do to get through the day. “ pg 171

On spirit:

“Over and over again, I am reminded that most of what I know of God, I have learned from my children. From the instant they arrived on this earth, squashed and bloody and astonishingly alert, they have been my teachers, messengers sent from beyond who force me to confront my own deepest questions and beliefs.  Surely in those first moments after birth, when we come face-to-face with these diminutive souls entrusted to our care, we do catch a glimpse of God. We know what it is to be blessed.  Our children arrive, as Wordsworth wrote, ‘Not in entire forgetfulness, and not in utter nakedness, but trailing clouds of glory…from God, who is our home: Heaven lies about us in our infancy!’ Life as we know it is suddenly transformed—by the arrival of six new pounds of humanity.  Few would deny the presence of spirit then, for in giving birth, we experience a profound awakening ourselves, perhaps even a heightened consciousness.  But is there a way to sustain that spiritual connection as we set about our tasks as parents? How do we nourish our children’s souls as they grow and begin to challenge us?  Where, in our complex lives, does spirit live and flourish?” pg 181

On balance:

“The sweetest memories are right here, in the moments we create and share with one another.”

Anne Morrow Lindbergh wrote Gift from the Sea….she said she “went away in search of answers to the question of ‘how to remain balanced, no matter what centrifugal forces tend to pull one off center.” Pg 195

“I suppose I think of Gift from the Sea as a kind of mother’s fairy tale—a fantasy of peace and quiet that I could only dream of.” Pg 196

I love this realistic view of AML’s time at the sea.  While her writing resonates a cord within me, I see the fantastical elements in her work.  How did she get away for such a long time (2 weeks is long)?  How’s did she manage?  But then I think, the Lindbergh’s probably had a nanny.  I should do a little research to solidify my guess here, but seriously.  How’s she pull that off?

On Choices:

“As Louise Erdrich wrote in her memoir, The Blue Jay’s Dance: A Birth Year, ‘Mothering is a subtle art whose rhythm we collect and learn, as much from one another as from instinct.  Taking shape, we shape each other, with subtle pressures and sudden knocks.  The challenges shape us, approvals refine, the wear and tear of small abrasions transform, until we’re slowly made up of one another and yet wholly ourselves.” Pg 204

“And, at some point, we may begin to ask ourselves: Just whose standards am I living by, anyway?  An advertiser’s? A neighbor’s? A parent’s? A corporation’s? A culture’s? Only when we stop long enough to figure out what we really care about, and begin to make our choices accordingly, can we create lives that are authentic expressions of our inner selves.” Pg 207

Oh, the people we are amidst the chaos of life and the people or moms we want to be or dream of being.

As I started this blog entry I kept singing a certain song I learned around the 5th grade.  That year we students learned what we called ‘the groovy song,’ a classic rock song that we often asked to sing.  We thought it was a bit silly, but nevertheless fun.  “Hello lamppost, whatcha knowin’?” Strange, but strangely appealing to a ten or eleven year old.  As an adult, I amazed my own husband, who incidentally, did not know all of the lyrics to this song, when I could sing the song in its entirety.  I was shocked & amazed that he did not know it and immediately determined that he should learn it.  My daughter things it’s a pretty happy tune that she smiles and dances to. It is, after all, classic Simon and Garfunkel.  The “59th Street Bridge Song” sings a kind of harmony with Mitten Strings For God. I'll close with it.

Slow down, you move too fast.
You got to make the morning last.
Just kicking down the cobblestones.
Looking for fun and feelin' groovy.

Ba da, Ba da, Ba da, Ba da...Feelin' Groovy.

Hello lamp-post,
What cha knowin'?
I've come to watch your flowers growin'.
Ain't cha got no rhymes for me?
Doot-in' doo-doo,
Feelin' groovy.

I've got no deeds to do,
No promises to keep.
I'm dappled and drowsy and ready to sleep.
Let the morning time drop all its petals on me.
Life, I love you,
All is groovy.

Love/Hate Part 2

A T-Shirt worn my one of my 8th grade students:  "Stop texting me, I'm right next 2U."

Love it!

Lyme Park on Easter Sunday

Ten years ago on Easter weekend I took a long train ride across the Scottish and English countryside all to catch a glimpse of Mr. Darcy and his esteemed estate, Pemberley.  Ahem, I mean, to see the beautiful grounds of Pemberley.  (Ahem...) Sorry, that's not right either, I mean, Lyme Park, the location of P&P '95's Pemberley.

The 6 hour journey from Aberdeen went through Edinburgh to Carlisle and then to Stockport and finally to the small city of Disley in Cheshire.  Along the way there were beautiful hills full of green grass and sheep.  Because it was spring, there were also lambs. Lots of lambs with their mamas.  I distinctly remember seeing a lamb stand up and immediately topple over onto a brother or a sister.  Could it have been its first time standing?

I traveled with my American friend, Ellie, who was also very excited to visit Lyme Park.  Our Saturday arrival was met with torrents of rain as our taxi dropped us off at the main entrance.  (Rather than walk from the train station in a downpour a la Marianne Dashwood and catching a horrific fever, we opted for the taxi.)

We did the best we could on such a rainy day--we toured every inch of the house!  Lyme Park is part of the National Trust in England, much like our Nat'l Historic Register etc.  It is well maintained and hosts a variety of local functions throughout the year.  No pictures were allowed inside the house, so all I have are postcards of beautifully ornate rooms in a scrapbook.  It was beautiful, and I swear I saw Mr. Darcy run down a set of stairs but then I blinked and the moment was gone.  Sigh. 

By the time we were ready to head to our B&B, it was only lightly raining.  The picture to the right shows the road we walked down to get from the park to Disley and our B&B.  It had a very English country walk feel to it. It was there that I saw what I kept looking for and had never actually seen.  An honest to goodness English countryside footbridge!  So, of course, I had to pose for a photo opp.  (See below.)  After the mile walk from the park to The Grey Cottage,  our wonderful beyond compare B&B!, we had a quiet evening watching British TV and reading a horribly ill written Dawson's Creak spinoff novel.  (Note my enthusiasm about our B&B.  In other words, should you make a trek to Lyme Park, I highly recommend this place!) 

The Grey Cottage

Looking out on a beautiful Easter Sunday morning from Grey Cottage.

On Easter Sunday, the sun came out and we took an early morning walk to Lyme Park one more time before catching the train back to Stockport etc.  An Easter tradition on the grounds of the park is that local families bring their children for an Easter Egg hunt.  We saw tons of children in their Easter Sunday attire running around by the garden finding eggs.  Of course, did I take photos of this event.  No.  So, just imagine children hunting eggs.   It was also delightful to see the park in the sunshine.  We were able to walk outsite and catch that (in)famous glimpse that Elizabeth sees as she approaches Pemberley!

A few more for kicks...

The 'back' of Lyme Park, what visitors see first upon entering from the main gate.

Walking to Lyme Park from Disley/Grey Cottage.  Building in the background is the Cage.  A hunting tower that women would go to in order to watch men hunt.

The Cage a bit closer.

But wait!, there's more!

10 years ago Easter Sunday.... (This is the foot bridge photo I mentioned earlier.)

2010 Easter Sunday.