Review: "Confessions of a Jane Austen Addict" by Laurie Viera Rigler

Courtney Stone wakes one morning in her beautiful four-poster bed in her sumptuously arranged bedroom.

The only problem is that it's not her bedroom. In fact, it's not even her body.

Somehow, 21st century Courtney has woken up in the body - and the life - of Miss Jane Mansfield, a lady from the early 19th century.

Astonished and objecting, Courtney soon learns to hold her tongue about her true identity when her less than maternal "mother" threatens her with exile to an asylum - permanently. Over time, Courtney adapts to living in Jane's body and life, and begins to recall memories that are not her own. She also begins to fall in love with Jane's suitor, the enigmatic Mr Edgeworth.

With no idea as to whether she will ever escape to her own (albeit disastrous) life in the 21st century, Courtney/Jane has to learn to live in the present - even though that present is two hundred years in the past. She gradually accepts a slower pace of life and, in time, comes to feel that maybe she doesn't want to return to her own time, after all.

Laura Viera Rigler leads us on a fun, light, guided tour through the early nineteenth century, as seen through the eyes of a disillusioned modern woman. We are allowed to experience personal hygiene, travel, shopping, and love, all on a much slower and more considered scale than the one we're used to.

Gradually, along with Courtney/Jane, we overcome our own cynicism and preconceived notions about the time, and to see them with a new understanding.

The only factor lacking in this enjoyable book is the flip-side of the story; where has the "real" Jane Mansfield gone? If she has taken up the mantle of Courtney's 21st century life, as is hinted, how is she coping?

Obviously, I will now have to read "Rude Awakenings of a Jane Austen Addict" in order to answer those questions. ;)

Jane Austen and Sex before Marriage

I'd just like to share with you all a few thoughts I've been having on the subject of sex before or outside marriage in Regency times. Jane Austen's view of such indiscretions appears mixed, to say the least.

A couple of young female characters in Jane Austen's novels are, shall we say, a little indiscreet in their relationships, and certainly meet with the come-uppance a reader of the time would expect. Isabella Thorpe, disappointed by her fiance's comparative lack of fortune, allows herself to be wooed and seduced by Captain Frederick Tilney. In so doing, the full extent of her flawed character is revealed. She finds herself disgraced and abandoned by her more honourable fiance. What befalls her then we do not know. Is she pregnant? Will she ever find a husband? We are left to guess what her future might hold.

Maria Bertram commits a similar sin; having married for money, but without love, she cuckolds her husband with the dashing Henry Crawford. Here her punishment is clear; she is expelled from her marriage, banished from her family and has to suffer the companionship and "comfort" of her Aunt Norris for the remainder of her days. Hellish indeed.

Curiously, not all of Jane Austen's characters who commit similar indiscretions are so punished. Lydia Bennet in Pride & Prejudice, the most shameless and disgraceful flirt of all, has a veneer of respectability placed over her conduct by her family, and is welcomed back into the fold. Eliza Williams in Sense & Sensibility, the daughter of Colonel Brandon's ward who is seduced and left pregnant by John Willoughby, is merely pitied for her plight, though she too will be excluded from polite society.

The difference in treatment of these various characters by Jane Austen seems to depend not so much on the sin of having sexual relationships, but on whether or not those relationships were adulterous, or injurious to another person. Therefore, Lydia Bennet is forgiven, since she has not harmed another suitor, as is Eliza Williams. Maria Bertram and Isabella Thorpe have both wounded honest men, and cannot be forgiven.

This brings me to a final, rather thorny question; that of Marianne Dashwood in Sense & Sensibility. Marianne launches herself into a passionate, unreserved relationship with Mr John Willoughby. Marianne is reckless; open in her regard for Willoughby, driving around the countryside with him unchaperoned, and finally allowing him to bring her to visit his house, Combe Magna. They visit the house in secret and alone, when Willoughby has already hinted at his intentions towards Marianne.

Marianne goes on to marry Colonel Brandon, who has already shown himself to be compassionate and understanding in his manner of dealing with his ward, Eliza Williams, and her situation. I can't help wondering if he was also aware and accepting of the fact that his wife had committed the same transgression as that of his ward, and with the same man? If Marianne had done so, which would surely harm her other suitor Colonel Brandon, she should not have had such a happy ending according to Jane Austen's own self-imposed standard. Or was Marianne the exception which proves the rule?

Because my final question is, did Marianne have sex with Willoughby, or didn't she? What do you think?

On Th' Occasion of The Marriage of Miss Katie Price

The lovely Katie Price has tied the knot. Again. The blushing bride was demure and modest in an appropriate and tasteful white gown. http://blogs.telegraph.co.uk/news/michaeldeacon/100024856/katie-price-gets-married-her-statement-in-full/

My intention with this blog post was to write a review of one of the books I have been reading for research, and a great favourite of mine, Regency Etiquette: The Mirror of Graces, 1811 . The author of this work, "a Lady of Distinction", has amused the little cotton socks off me with many of the strict rules and regulations of dress which she has laid down for young ladies to follow.

However, simultaneously, I have been surprised and delighted to find that much of her advice would still translate perfectly in the twenty-first century; and I have to confess that the name of Jordan popped into my mind on more than one occasion when reading it! So I couldn't resist making the lovely Ms Katie Price the subject of this post. I would very much like to introduce her to the "Lady of Distinction".

The "Lady of Distinction" counsels strongly against the excessive use of cosmetics:

"...the occasional use of rouge may be tolerated, yet, my fair friends must understand that it is only tolerated... A violently rouged woman is one of the most disgusting objects to the eye... transforms the elegant lady of fashion into a vulgar harridan."

The author also advises against fighting one's own natural colouring, and altering hair colour, eyelashes, etc.

"For instance, a gold-tressed wig on the head of a brown woman, makes both ridiculous," (Yes, I know Katie is currently a brunette of sorts, but you'll have to allow me that one in memory of her past glories!) and

"Let every woman be content to leave her eyes as she found them... Let them speak this unsophisticated language, and beauty will beam from the orb which affectation would have rendered odious."

The "Lady of Distinction" goes on to advise about the importance of taste and elegance in dress.

"Elegant dressing is not found in expense; money without judgement may load, but never can adorn... it ought not to be very surprising, when opulence, vanity and bad taste meet, that we should find extravagance and tawdry profusion the fruits of the union."

The author further advises against over-exposure of the bosom, as well as moulding it into unnatural shapes;

"...the hips squeezed into a circumference little more than the waist; and the bosom shoved up to the chin, making a sort-of fleshy shelf, disgusting to the beholders, and certainly most incommodious to the bearer."

It must also be born in mind that Ms Price is not as young and fresh as once she was.

"Let the youthful female exhibit without shade as much of her bust as shall come within the limits of fashion, without infringing on the borders of immodesty. Let the fair of riper years appear less exposed."

In light of Ms Price's common modes of dress, one cannot help but wonder as to the character of her new husband, for

"No eye but that of a libertine can look upon so wanton a figure with any other sensations than those of disgust and contempt..."

Hmm. I think I might send my copy of The Mirror Of Graces to Ms Price as a wedding present. I've highlighted all the relevant passages, so that she needn't tax herself by reading too much. Plus, as she pointed out in relation to her own "biography", there are several pictures in it that you can look at, even if you don't read much.

Would she get the message then?

Jane Austen's answer to Rimmel; Get the Longbourne Look!

I am currently reading Confessions of a Jane Austen Addict by Laurie Viera Rigler, and have been chortling heartily at Courtney/Jane's horror at facing the Nineteenth-Century world with a face devoid of make-up.

Until the last couple of days I would have been in total agreement with her horror, but having spent three days without running water of any kind (thank you, "cold snap"), I've found being bare of face curiously uninhibiting.

However, old habits die hard and as soon as my water returned this morning I was in my electric power shower, blow-drying and ghd'ing my hair, and applying my usual slap. This all put me in mind of a little book I've recently bought and have only just glanced through, Regency Etiquette: The Mirror of Graces which was written by A Lady of Distinction and first published in 1811.

At the back of the book are a number of recipes for unguents, balms, and cosmetic substitutes, such as were acceptable for young ladies of good character to use. My eye was particularly caught by a receipt for "Virgin Milk", which I share with you now.

Virgin Milk

A publication of this kind would certainly be looked upon as an imperfect performance, if we omitted to say a few words upon this famous cosmetic. It consists of a tincture of Benjoin, precipitated by water. The tincture of Benjoin is obtained by taking a certain quantity of that gum, pouring spirits of wine upon it, and boiling it till it becomes a rich tincture. If you pour a few drops of this tincture into a glass of water, it will produce a mixture which will assume all the appearances of milk, and retain a very agreeable perfume. If the face is washed with this mixture, it will, by calling the purple stream of the blood to the external fibres of the epidermis, produce on the cheeks a beautiful rosy colour; and, if left on the face to dry, it will render it clear and brilliant. It also removes spots, freckles, pimples, erysipelatous eruptions, &c. &c. if they have not been of long standing on the skin.

Another one also made me laugh, from the days long before Botox:

A Paste for the Skin

(This may be recommended in cases when the skin seems to get too loosely attached to the muscles.)

Boil the whites of four eggs in rose water, add to it a sufficient quantity of alum; beat the whole together till it takes the consistence of a paste. This will give, when applied, great firmness to the skin.

If anyone cares to try these time-honoured receipts, do please, please, let me know!