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Author Archives: Janet Mullany

Another Regency birthday to celebrate–that of Sarah Siddons, considered one of the greatest actresses of her time, who was born July 5, 1755 in Brecon, South Wales (in the Shoulder of Mutton public house). She was born into the business; her father Roger Kemble owned a small traveling theater company. When she fell in love with a fellow actor, William Siddons, her family objected and sent her off to work as a maid, where apparently her employers enjoyed her dramatic reading aloud. But they relented, and Sarah and William married.

She first played London at the age of 20, but failed to impress audiences–possibly because it was too soon after the birth of her third child. After touring the provinces she returned, and became the undisputed diva of Drury Lane–the Queen of Tragedy (or the Queen of Rant as the caricaturists would call her). During her performances, the audience would weep and sometimes faint.

She gave readings to the Royal Family and elocution lessons to their children, and she was the first woman to play Hamlet. After a twenty year reign on the London stage, she gave her farewell performance in 1812 in one of her signature roles, Lady Macbeth.

I find the theater of the Regency period fascinating; if ever I have the privilege of time travel I am definitely going to attend the play and the opera.

What would you do on your time travel trip?

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I’m borrowing the artwork from Salon‘s article yesterday, I Dream of Darcy, because I think it illustrates what was both right and wrong about Rebecca Traister’s somewhat sniffy take on the infiltration of Jane Austen into pop culture.

And yes, she mentions The Rules of Gentility in a list of Austen-inspired books that are coming out this summer to coincide with the release of the movie Becoming Jane. (Hey, a mention is a mention is a mention–I can take a bit of snottiness.) And besides, mine isn’t a knock-off–I have a couple of blatant quotes from Austen, and then I left her alone lest an acidic, ladylike thunderbolt should strike me.

As Ms. Traister points out, there have been waves of Austenmania, the last one of which, in 1995, was inspired by the A&E Pride & Prejudice and the lovely and talented Colin Firth. I can think of worse things to happen in movieland. Do Austen movies or series, however carefully crafted, or Austen knock-offs in the form of fantasies about Firth–oops, Darcy–mean that a new generation of readers will flock to read Austen? Or if they flock, will they stay and make it through Mansfield Park? Interestingly enough, the last decade, despite Firth’s wet shirt, saw the decline and end of the two traditional Regency lines (Signet and Zebra).

But Austen’s work endures–her novels have never been out of print for almost two centuries. My feeling is she’s a big enough girl to take any sort of snarky imitation, uppity young movie director’s vision, or scriptwriter’s short cut.

Traister uses one marvelous quote from a letter Austen wrote advising her niece about marriage:

“… there are such beings in the World perhaps, one in a Thousand, as the Creature You and I should think perfection. Where Grace & Spirit are united to Worth, where the Manners are equal to the Heart & Understanding, but such a person may not come in your way, or, if he does, he may not be the eldest son of a Man of Fortune, the Brother of your particular friend & belonging to your own Country.”

Austen was very much aware of the divide between fantasy and reality–it’s a theme throughout her novels: Marianne vs. Elinor, the Gothic sensibility vs. real life, and the pragmatic attitude of most of the women in her novels toward love and marriage. But for reasons that are unclear to me, Traister thinks modern women–or should that be overt readers of romance and/or chicklit?–can’t differentiate between fantasy and reality, hence the huge supply/demand of Austen-related books and movies. And the picture? Well, she has something wrong with her spine, but a most un-Regency-like sash at waist level, and as for that water bottle … someone wrote in to Salon asking if it was a … well, never mind.

Anway, read the article. Let us know what you think and whether you really expect Colin Firth to emerge dripping from a nearby pond.

Want to win a copy of The Rules of Gentility? Pam Rosenthal is offering copies as prizes in her latest contest, www.pamrosenthal.com.

And sign up for the Riskies newsletter at riskies@yahoo.com for the latest wet Firth sightings.

Today is the summer solstice, the longest day of the year, and England has some unique celebrations that were certainly around in Regency times and may have dated back centuries, and some of them are just plain weird. The most famous modern solstice celebration is that at Stonehenge, where over twenty thousand people gathered this morning at sunrise.

In Cornwall, there are midsummer bonfire festivals.

Chanctonbury Ring in Sussex has the peculiar power to raise the devil if you can persuade someone to run around it seven times anti-clockwise and you can see fairies if you recite A Midsummer Night’s Dream there on midsummer night’s eve (hmm. We should have commissioned Cara and Todd for this one). It has quite a reputation for paranormal events and experiences.

Derbyshire has its own peculiar brand of midsummer celebrations with well-dressing, something that is probably associated with the ancient worship of sacred springs. Villagers create pictures, often very elaborate and detailed, made of flowers and leaves stuck into clay in a wooden frame which are then displayed at the local well. Although the tradition is associated with the solstice, the season lasts from May until September. In one of those particularly odd English marriages of the official and pagan, here the Mayor and Bishop of Derby bless the Derby offering of 1997.

The solstice is also considered to be a powerful time for love divinations and the best time to gather herbs for magical properties (if you want to dream of your future lover, by the way, sleep with some yarrow beneath your pillow).

Do you know of any interesting solstice customs? Have you read or written about one?

Sign up for the Riskies newsletter at riskies@yahoo.com and we’ll send you our mysterious flower-studded news every month.

Today is the summer solstice, the longest day of the year, and England has some unique celebrations that were certainly around in Regency times and may have dated back centuries, and some of them are just plain weird. The most famous modern solstice celebration is that at Stonehenge, where over twenty thousand people gathered this morning at sunrise.

In Cornwall, there are midsummer bonfire festivals.

Derbyshire has its own peculiar brand of midsummer celebrations with well-dressing, something that is probably associated with the ancient worship of sacred springs. Villagers create pictures made of flowers and leaves stuck into clay in a wooden frame, often very elaborate and detailed, which are then on display at the local well. Although the tradition is associated with the solstice, the season lasts from May until September. In one of those particularly odd English marriages of the sacred and profane, here the Mayor and Bishop of Derby bless the Derby offering of 1997.

“In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”… His sense of her inferiority — of its being a degradation — of the family obstacles which judgment had always opposed to inclination, were dwelt on with a warmth which seemed due to the consequence he was wounding, but was very unlikely to recommend his suit.

Darcy’s proposal to Elizabeth and although Jane Austen did not write romance, either by the standards of her time or ours, it has, I think the essence of what makes a romance work: that falling in love with this particular person is the worst possible thing that could happen. Love destroys and creates chaos; you can’t help yourself; you are powerless and there is no twelve-step group that can possibly help.

I’ve always been fascinated by classical legends that have randy gods taking on nonhuman forms to seduce hapless mortals. Why bother with the disguise?–you’re a god, right? But is the disguise, other than the frisson of assuming another form, part of the divine insanity of love? I couldn’t help it, I was a swan with a brain the size of a walnut … One look at his lovely orange beak, that’s all it took …

My heroes and heroines find that their careful, sensible plans are overturned and their moral code and sense go out the window when they fall in love. Love = trouble, conflict, and after many adventures (a very useful phrase for synopses, by the way), acceptance of love and of each other.

What’s your definition of love in romance? Is it all you need?

Sign up for the Riskies newsletter at riskies@yahoo.com for advice on dealing with amorous waterfowl, with NEWSLETTER in the subject line.

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