Theresa Basile

One of my favorite things about the BBC adaptation of Pride and Prejudice is the sycophantic, slimy, sweaty performance of David Bamber as Mr. Collins.  The 2005 film got a lot of “comedy” and “wacky hijinx” from Mr. Collins being, um, short (har dee har har).  This Mr. Collins is perfect.  The proposal scene is one of the funniest moments in the series.

Usually, I just watch this scene and laugh, thinking, “Oh, Mr. Collins, so clueless, such a suck-up and yet so pompous!” and then move on.  Upon rereading the book, though, this particular line leaped out at me:

“To such perseverance in willful self-deception Elizabeth would make no reply, and immediately and in silence withdrew, determined that, if he persisted in considering her repeated refusals as flattering encouragement, to apply to her father, whose negative might be uttered in such a manner as must be decisive, and whose behavior, at least, could not be mistaken for the affectation and coquetry of an elegant female.”

In other words?  Elizabeth tells Mr. Collins “no,” and he doesn’t think she means it.  Continue reading →

Is there  any literary comfort food better than Pride and Prejudice? No, there is not.  Every time I read it (about once a year), I have to force myself not to swallow the whole thing in one gulp.  I try to pace myself, but I can’t.  Watching the 1995 BBC miniseries presents the same problem.  I can only watch it when I have nothing else to do that week because I will watch all six hours in one night if I’m not stopped.

I feel less inclined to watch the 2005 version again.  I somewhat enjoyed it the first time I watched it, and especially liked Rosamund Pike as Jane, but when I watched the proposal scenes from both versions back to back, I almost felt embarrassed.  The 2005 version just doesn’t compare. Continue reading →

In the second stage of my Jane Austen reread, I found myself zipping through Sense and Sensibility, but not with the same fervor that I read Northanger Abbey.  Northanger Abbey still entertains me with sexy, snarky Henry Tilney, the mocking of Gothic conventions, and one of my favorite scenes in all of Austen’s novels – when John Thorpe tries to drop hints to Catherine that he wants to marry her.  (I still can’t tell if she is oblivious to his innuendos or if she understands him perfectly but is completely brushing him off – either scenario is hilarious to me.  “I’d like to stop by your house!” “Great!  My parents would be happy to see you.” “I hope YOU won’t be unhappy to see me?” “No, I’m never unhappy to see anyone – company is always welcome!”  HAHAHA).  But I did not get the same joy out of rereading Sense and Sensibility. In fact, I wanted to zip through it and watch the 1995 Ang Lee version, written by and starring Emma Thompson.

Yes, I’ve come to the conclusion that Sense and Sensibility is one of the few books where I prefer the film version.  Why?  Let’s count the ways: Continue reading →