Á la young Jane Austen

I've been on a Jane Austen binge lately.  (Sorry, honey!)

I re-read or read all of her novels and juvenalia, other than Sandition which I understand was recently completed by another author.  I've watched the correlating movies for most of her novels ad nauseum. (Sorry again, honey!)  Seriously, I have watched Pride and Prejudice at least 30 times in the past month, if not more.  I have watched Becoming Jane with similar vigor.

Something about her writing, her life, her time period, her experiences just really resonates with me.  And so as a pre-writing exercise for part of my novel, and some pieces of which may actually form a part of the final draft thereof, I have endeavored to copy the writing style of Jane Austen in her juvenalia.

Without giving too much away, one of the characters in my Novel-In-Progress (NIP?) is obsessed with 19th Century literature, so I have allowed myself virtually unfettered absorption into the world of Jane Austen.  I've already done similar immersion experiments in the past with Charlotte Brontë and Louisa May Alcott and have been trying to get some 19thC male authors into the mix as well, though their novel writing bears a very distinct contrast to that of the women of the same period.

And so, what I have done is to write letters from one girl to her sister, both in parts of England, which I've never visited.  Yet, dagnabbit.  As I say, they are meant in some fashion to resemble though not outright copy the writing style of Jane Austen.  I only intended to copy her style insomuch as to make it as historically accurate for the period as possible without having to do significant research.  As my former professor, Boris Shekhtman told us math majors, "Mathematicians are inherently lazy."  He should know.  The man deliberately scheduled himself to work only afternoons and evenings so he could stay out until closing every night.  But he is absolutely brilliant and logical, despite his appetite for -OH and socializing in bars.  (True as anything, he's still doing the same scheme:  USF's website says all his classes right now start at 2pm.  Love that man!)

So, in the spirit of laziness and therefore mathematical brilliance, I present to you the two letters I have written so far.  Feedback is much appreciated, both positive and negative!  (Also, for those not familiar, it was customary to refer to the eldest unmarried female of a family by Miss [Last Name] and her younger siblings by Miss [First Name] [Last Name].)

Letter the First, from Evelyn in Bath to her sister Charlotte back home

Dear Charlotte, 

My dear sister, what shall you think of me?  I have been in Bath nearly a se'ennight without any correspondence to you.  Would I have some high reason for such a lapse, and yet the best excuse I have for myself is being incessantly kept busy. 

Aunt Nelly goes to the pump room daily and insists on my joining her.  With her great kindness in bringing me "out", I feel obligated to obey her every whim.  This may soon change, however, as I have at last found a friend for myself here.  Miss Caroline Langford and her brother are in Bath helping Miss Langford prepare for her upcoming nuptials to a Mr. Garrison Kirby.  Miss Caroline informed me that Mr. Kirby is nearly 40--over twice Miranda's age.  he has two thousand a year and a sizable estate South of Town. 

Miss Caroline declares that despite his advanced years, Mr. Kirby still appears handsome of face and agile of limb.  I have yet to meet him myself, though I feel sure of doing so at the McKinnons' dinner party tonight.  You may expect me to relate a less partial, very faithful review of the subject. 

As for the Langfords, they have been residing this twelvemonth with their mother's relations, following the illness and death of both their parents.  Miss Langford appears at first a delicate, shy flower of a girl.  At 19 years, she promises well with such bloom of youth persistent in her cheek.  Though a little fuller of figure than is generally thought handsome on a woman, her shape and bearing and gentle manner are yet pleasing to witness. 

Miss Caroline is more spritely than her sister.  At 17 years, she has, like me, only just left her governess, though she has been out nearly a twelvemonth.  Her fair hair possesses the perfect proportion of curl, and she styles it so elegantly and meticulously that I find myself starting to pay greater attention to my own toilette, so as to appear a more worthy companion.  Caroline's elegance of form and figure, as well as her delicate and heartfelt way with a harp, are sure to secure her a most worthy husband before long. 

I know what you are thinking.  Shame on you!  But you are right, of course.  I have scarcely mentioned Mr. Langford, and so you will naturally assume it is because I am besotted with him.  Tis too true for me to deny, though I fancy myself delusional should I believe myself the only eligible young woman to take notice of him. 

In the pump room yesterday, I overheard the Misses Creighton praising his "pleasing open brow and friendly countenance."  Miss McKinnon has often noted to me that Mr. Langford is so fortunate to have access to his inheritance at 23.  She believes his income to be about four or five thousand a year and that his sisters are each to have 10,000£.  Besides noting his being financially well-endowed and handsome, however, I find no other young ladies who appear to recognize his superiority to most other men in a far more worthy aspect.  His wit, humour, knowledge of the world, conversation, eloquence, vocabulary, and overall-pleasing manner cannot help but win the heart of any woman with an iota of perception. 

I may only hope Mr. L. could find enough similarity between our two characters to encourage him to choose me for a wife.  What high hopes I have!  So much room I leave myself for Disappointment! 

Please find me your ever devoted and loving (though lapsed in rapid correspondence) sister,

Evelyn

My hands are getting worn out.  I've written 4 letters by hand tonight before typing this post.  I'll type the second letter as another post.  Adieu!  (Or to quote young Jane Austen, "Adeiu!")