Bad Austen (12 page)
Authors: Peter Archer
W
ild and
W
anton
J
ane
A
NABELLA
B
LOOM
After a day spent in professions of love and schemes of felicity, Mr. Collins worked up the courage to kiss his fiancée. He had been thinking of it most earnestly since their private walk. Preparing her for this advance in their relationship, he felt, was his solemn duty, and therefore he spent several minutes lecturing on the state of an engagement and how it was very like a marriage in the eyes of all, especially with steady characters such as theirs. Then, proceeding to wet his mouth as to not make the experience unpleasant, he took her by the arms and pressed his mouth to hers.
Charlotte was by no means deficient in knowledge when it came to such matters. She had grown up on a farm, tending to animals, and had a fair bit of knowledge of husbandry. Though she did not suppose humans mated like sheep, she understood well how a child was conceived. And her mother, wishing to help her advance her engagement before the joyous event took place, had been obliged to suggest helpful hints into securing Mr. Collins’s interest.
Though Charlotte hardly doubted Mr. Collins’s intent, she knew one word from Lady Catherine, whom she had never met, would be sufficient in turning his regard and making him end the engagement before the wedding took place. Only a strong inducement on her part would secure her lot, and she intended to see that her future was indeed hers. So it was, as Mr. Collins pressed his lips to hers on the private bench, she allowed her hand to slide onto his thigh, as if by unconscious design, and pretended to be so enraptured by his kiss that she did not know what she did. Her fingers kneaded into his leg, indecently high, and she felt the muscles stiffen beneath her hand.
Mr. Collins instantly took hold of her face, pressing most earnestly against her so that her teeth cut into the tender flesh of her mouth. There was no art to his lovemaking, for the indelicate fumblings of his hands were hardly adept for the task. However, this did not stop him from taking control of the situation, and so he took Charlotte’s hand and moved it up to caress the heavy press of his manhood through his breeches. The sensation was all too pleasurable, and he began to rock most insistently.
Trembling and sighing in great turn, he released her mouth and quickly undid his breeches so that flesh might meet flesh. He felt no qualms in using his fiancée in such a way, for he had given the matter a great deal of thought in the time they were parted and determined that should such an occasion arise, he was well within his rights to take advantage of it. He led her hand to his shaft and noted with great appreciation her look of modesty as she turned her eyes away from him. Applying pressure, he showed her how he wished for her to move.
To Charlotte, she thought of the task not unlike milking a cow. Though such thoughts were not those of a proper bride-to-be, she could not help them. She looked upon sex as another chore that must be performed. Mr. Collins was quite content to let her stroke him as he buried his face into her chest and played with her breasts through the barrier of her gown. He made strange noises, breathing hard and fast, until finally she milked him of his seed. Afterward, she was pleasantly surprised to find him so grateful for the service that he hardly said anything at all and they were obliged to pass several hours in silence.
D
ID
Y
OU
K
NOW?
It is a truth universally acknowledged that the first line of
Pride and Prejudice
is the best and most famous opening sentence in English literature and the gateway to one of the world’s greatest pleasures. So it is surprising to see the mild praise of the novel that appears in reviews written at the time it was first published. These reviews were favorable, as they had been in response to
Sense and Sensibility
, but they focused approvingly on the book’s morality and barely seemed to notice its breathtaking wit! However, there was a difference in tone between published reviews of
Pride and Prejudice
and social gossip about it, and the latter was much more interesting and spirited.
The first edition of 1,500 copies had sold out by July of 1813. A second edition was published that fall, and a third would be published in 1817. It was
the
novel to read or, as Anne Isabella Milbanke (who would later marry Lord Byron) put it, it was “at present the fashionable novel.” Maria Edgeworth, whom Jane admired, read it and urged her brother in a letter to do so also. Warren Hastings praised it, to Jane’s delight. The playwright Richard Sheridan said
Pride and Prejudice
“was one of the cleverest things” he had ever read. The high praise from prominent writers must have been especially gratifying to Austen.
Pride and Prejudice
was published anonymously, which was how Jane liked it. As a result, however, many people had the wrong woman down as the author—and others thought it too good to have been written by a woman at all. Henry Austen, though sworn to secrecy like the rest of those in the know, let slip the secret of Jane’s authorship more than once. Jane forgave him since his motivation was rooted in “Brotherly vanity and Love”—and of course because it was Henry—but she appreciated the superior discretion of her brother Frank and his wife.
From poor Miss Benn to the highest members of high society, Elizabeth Bennet was working her charm while her creator watched and listened with amusement and satisfaction.
PART 2
If Jane Could See Us Now
A number of the entries we received in the Bad Austen contest were set in contemporary times. The juxtaposition of Austen’s nineteenth-century sensibility with the realities of the twenty-first century created a fair amount of amusement on the part of the editors, who did a lot of chortling—and hope you will, too. Herewith, stories that Jane Austen never wrote but quite possibly would have, if she’d lived a few centuries later.
P
emberley
H
igh
R. S
TANDFORD
It is universally acknowledged that high school is a form of medieval torture invented by embittered adults to retaliate against the inconvenience youth has caused them. This was never more true than for an outspoken, sharp-witted junior named Lizzi. Her unconventional dress and various charitable causes, including most recently “What Are Men Compared to Mountains: A Weekend of Womanhood and Nature Retreat,” earned her much notability and scorn amongst the jocks and cheerleaders that roamed the halls of Pemberley High.
Today was no different, though as Lizzi ran to her locker and hastily pulled out her science book, she noticed a lack of mockery.
Perhaps they have finally seen the wisdom of my nature
.
Then, she noticed that the halls, normally full of hormonal animals, referred to as students, engaging in mating and social rituals which Lizzi felt were unnecessary and demeaning to an individual, were empty, save her.
She glanced down at her watch.
“Shoot,” Lizzi said. Late again. It was so easy for her mind to wander during her walk to school, and Lizzi often found herself lost in contemplation over a wayward daisy or rose that lay on her path to school. Sighing, she was about to renounce herself to the dull dribble called chemistry when a splash of color invaded her vision.
“Hey,” she said, turning.
A boy, well-dressed in a polo and dark jeans, handsome with a brooding stare, stood in front of her, nervously clutching a piece of paper.
“Are you new? Lost?” Lizzi said. “I can show you where your classes are.”
“… I …”
“Let me help.” Lizzi reached for the paper.
The young gentlemen recoiled as her hand brushed against his.
“Don’t pay her any heed,” Caroline said, appearing from the shadows.
She was dressed immaculately, every accessory matching her cheerleading captain outfit, which she wore every day. This monotony made Lizzi’s stomach churn.
“I fear I might be ill,” Lizzi said under her breath.
“I’ll show you around and protect you from the pariahs that infest the hallways.” Caroline batted her eyelashes and interlaced her arm with the stranger.
He smirked at Lizzi, to acknowledge his awareness and acceptance of his and her social standing, and, Lizzi suspected, to rub her face in that knowledge.
“Of all the arrogant fools!” Lizzi exclaimed. “See if I ever help him.”
Lizzi had all but forgotten the incident by the time she arrived at chemistry class and was entirely ready to immerse herself in the world of formulas and equations when an all-too-familiar face appeared at the door.
“Class,” the teacher said, “we have a new student. Meet Mr. Darcy. I assume you will all reveal your charitable nature to him in time.”
D
ID
Y
OU
K
NOW?
Thomas Egerton published
Mansfield Park
, as he had
Sense and Sensibility
and
Pride and Prejudice
, but either he knew it was not the crowd pleaser that
Pride and Prejudice
was and offered to publish it only on commission or he offered an unacceptably low price for the copyright. In either case, this novel was published on commission also. The first edition of probably 1,250 copies was published in May of 1814 and sold out within six months, so it was surprising and disappointing when Egerton declined to publish a second edition. His instincts were right: When Henry negotiated with a different publisher to bring out a second edition in 1816—also on commission—it did not sell and was remaindered the following year. Perhaps Austen’s own comment that this novel was “not half so entertaining” as
Pride and Prejudice
expressed the common view.
To Jane’s disappointment, there were no contemporary reviews of
Mansfield Park
. (Serious authors whose work is ignored by the press today can perhaps take some comfort in that fact.) We do, however, have a fascinating document containing responses to the novel: Jane herself recorded the opinions of
Mansfield Park
expressed by family, friends, neighbors, and other acquaintances. One opinion that does indeed show up repeatedly is that it is not as good as
Pride and Prejudice
. Frank Austen and his wife, Mary, felt this way; so did Edward and his sons Edward and George; Mrs. Austen; Charles; and Jane’s friend, the Godmersham governess, Anne Sharp.
Anna, Jane’s intelligent, spirited niece, “could not bear Fanny.” The strength of her disgust comes through loud and clear! And Mrs. Austen, no slouch in the intelligence department herself, “thought Fanny insipid”—as many readers have thought since. It is interesting to see that while many readers—particularly since around the middle of the twentieth century—have in fact found
Mansfield Park
the most interesting, sophisticated, and complex of Austen’s novels, and certainly the most difficult to “figure out,” the general opinion is no doubt the same that was heard by Jane—
Pride and Prejudice
is preferred. And, as members of her own family did at the time of the book’s publication, many readers continue to dislike the heroine Fanny—and the hero Edmund, for that matter—and much prefer the morally corrupt but very entertaining figures of Mary and Henry Crawford.
