Blame it on Jane Austen

I've been a Jane Austen fan since that long ago day when a friendly librarian recommended one of her books--I was 12 at the time, and my love affair with Jane continues unabated regardless of impending old age, numerous broken hearts, a divorce, and a cat that hates me. For many years, Jane was one of  those secret loves us bookish types kept to ourselves. But then along came Hollywood, and Colin Firth, and the proverbial cat was out of that velvet bag.

I can give you all sorts of reasons why I love Jane Austen; her heroines are intelligent, strong and mature. And the movies are just so beautiful. Be honest, wouldn't you love to live in a remote but adorable vine-covered cottage confident that Prince Charming was just down the road and headed in your direction? Some wealthy individual who might be a little grumpy, but who would find your intelligence, wit, and resourcefulness irresistibly charming? Because the guaranteed happy ending is what I love best about Jane Austen.

Yes, Austen's novels are visions of a world of prescribed rules of conduct, and if one masters those rules, one is rewarded with love, fulfillment, and security. Honesty, loyalty, and industriousness are always rewarded and the bad guys never, ever, prosper. 

Women today have it better than ever. We don't need beautifully appointed cottages or magnificent mansions, we pay our own mortgages from our own salaries for our own overpriced condo. We don't have to wait for Prince Charming, we can approach him armed with nothing more than snappy patter and our own supplies of condoms. We can make our own deals, negotiate our own futures, break barriers, and maybe be elected president. But unlike Jane's heroines we cannot seem to find serenity, or even a happy ending.

I cannot decide if my discontent is based on my own inability to accept that bad things happen even if you are intelligent, honest, loyal, and industrious or if through a series of bad choices I blew my happily ever after because I was too busy looking for something else. In any case, I blame Jane Austen who made me believe that no matter how bad things seem there is always a happy ending at the end of the road. And in the end, I long for the serenity that all of her characters achieve.