Alert Janeite Helen B sent us a review of Becoming Jane from Empire Online. The reviewer wants to like the film, but there’s that little voice that tells her something is not quite right in Romanceville.
The role of Austen — that most inscrutable of lady authors — is taken by Anne Hathaway, an unpopular choice with those who swooned at the thought of a Yankee assaying such an icon of English literature. Yet she proves more than adequate, playing Jane as a coquettish, spirited young woman intriguingly at odds with the wry, detached presence of her novels.
Gee, wonder why that is?
Owing much to the biography by Jon Spence, it’s a clever narrative device, this dichotomy echoing the question addressed in her most popular novels: is it better to follow your heart or your head?
Um? In S&S, yes, in Persuasion, perhaps…but in the others? We do not see that at all.
Far from simple literary debate, Becoming Jane offers this recurrent dilemma as the painful reality of Austen’s earlier life, and a struggle that had such a profound effect she could never quite leave it alone — in print, at least.
Oh, it would be unfortunate if that were true.
As such, the characters peopling the young Jane’s life are plainly recognisable as the prototypes for her most celebrated characters: Julie Walters’ anxious mother and James Cromwell’s strong, fair-minded Mr. Austen are clear relatives of Pride & Prejudice’s Mr. and Mrs. Bennet; Maggie Smith’s aloof, disdainful dowager exemplifies the snobbery and social climbing that provide context for Austen’s romances; McAvoy’s cocksure, worldly Lefroy is the epitome of the outwardly arrogant, inwardly sensitive hero of whom Mr. Darcy is the paradigm, while Jane herself shares the wit and passion of Austen’s most beloved heroine, Lizzie Bennet.
So in other words, we’re getting warmed over P&P05. Well, we’ll be camping out at the theatre.
And how does this fit in with the head-vs-heart theme? Surely they’re not suggesting that Elizabeth Bennet ever considered her choice of Mr. Darcy as a head vs. heart decision? Or even that she should have considered marrying Mr. Collins, a prudent move if not romantic? Jane Austen states very clearly that it would be a mistake for Elizabeth to marry a man whom she could not respect. She could not respect Mr. Collins, and before she came to know him, she could not respect Mr. Darcy, either. In accepting Darcy at the end of the novel, when she knew and loved him, Elizabeth was following her heart AND her head. No angsty decision-making necessary. Oh, and Jane never really had a decision to make anyway–it’s highly doubtful that Tom Lefroy ever proposed to her, or had any intention of doing so.
This really is McAvoy and Hathaway’s movie, the pair boasting a chemistry that fizzes from their first encounter, as trainee solicitor Lefroy — exiled to his country relatives after disgracing himself in the city — snores his way through Jane’s recital of her latest writings, much to her distress.
A….recital? A woman who used to hide her manuscripts when visitors came and asked that a squeaky door hinge not be repaired so that she could have warning of approaching visitors when she was writing and published freaking anonymously doing a recital? For strangers? We really shall retire to Bedlam.
It’s a twist that adds a powerful new dimension to Austen’s story, underlining the film’s central thesis as to the role of writing in her later life: offering her the happy endings that reality, perhaps, could not. That theory is a little too neat to be entirely convincing, much less revealing
No! Really? Go figure!
Alert Janeite Julia sent us an article from The Telegraph on the film, interestingly in the newspaper’s Fashion section.
McAvoy, meanwhile, plays Tom as a rakish charmer, a young man impatient with the codes of conduct laid down by his stuffier superiors. When, in the film, Jane and Tom decide to elope to London, it is impossible not to think of Lydia Bennet making a dash for it with her charming, ever-so-slightly-caddish Wickham.
Elope?
DOROTHY! THE BOTTLE! BRING THE WHOLE DEMMED BOTTLE! FORGET THE TEA, WOMAN!
And it was these constraints that, in the end, not only determined that Jane Austen and Tom Lefroy could not marry, but also provided Austen with the subject that would become her life’s work.
Oh, we don’t know. We think the Austens would have been perfectly happy for their daughter to marry an up-and-coming young lawyer. Tom may have been poor, but he could go on to make a success of himself (rather like Captain Wentworth–oh wait, we’re remaking P&P here, sorry), and the Austens would not have objected to a long engagement until he could support her.
Mrs Lefroy seems to have decided to throw a party herself in order to bring the blossoming romance between her nephew and her neighbour to a delightful fruition.
Actually Madam Lefroy sent Tom away so that Jane wouldn’t fall any more deeply in love with him. She knew he wouldn’t–or couldn’t–marry Jane, and didn’t want her to be hurt, or at least hurt more.
Over the next few months, buoyed up by her feelings for Tom Lefroy, she would begin to write perhaps her greatest novel, Pride and Prejudice. In it she uses many details from Tom’s own life. His parents, for instance, had produced five sisters before a son arrived, a situation that bears some similarity to that of the Bennets. The name ‘Bennet’ is itself borrowed from the novel Tom Jones, which Jane knew to be Tom Lefroy’s favourite.
There also is a Miss Bennet mentioned in Fanny Burney’s novel Cecilia, the novel from which Jane took the title Pride and Prejudice. The Editrix’s book club is reading Cecilia this month, and it is easy to see how it influenced Jane’s writing. A Mrs. Elton also is mentioned in the novel and, of course, there is “the inimitable Miss Larolles,” to whom Anne Elliot laughingly compares herself when she is angling for a spot closer to Captain Wentworth at the concert. Isabella Thorpe, Nancy Steele, and Lydia Bennet all owe a debt to Miss Larolles, much more so than Anne Elliot! We wonder if any of the literary influences on Jane Austen, besides Fielding, are explored in this film? Richardson, Burney, Radcliffe? No, of course not, because we’re making a warmed-over version of P&P05, and everyone knows that Elizabeth Bennet is not a great reader and has pleasure in many things. Silly Editrix.
As far as Jane Austen was concerned, she had been engaged to Tom Lefroy, and believed that he felt himself similarly committed. It was this conundrum - just why do men and women love so differently? - that was to fire her imagination creatively over the next 20 years.
Sorry, we’re not buying it. It’s just not that simple. The creativity of a real artist comes from so many places–yes, from life, and there is no doubt that Jane loved Tom and that she used the memory of it while writing her books, but there is so much else too–what she read, as we already said, and the people she knew, and her family and friends and neighbors, and the places she lived and the things she experienced, and her own imagination–and if you don’t think that Jane Austen had an imagination, go read the Juvenilia!–and her own fierce intelligence. We hate to see that genius reduced to a two-week romance, and Jane Austen turned into some sort of literary Miss Havisham.