‘There are few people whom I really love, and still fewer of whom I think well…’
I recently wrote about Jane Austen and my general disdain for her domestic melodrama in a review that was as petulant as it was juvenile. I have no regrets. It was with a profound sadness then that I began Pride & Prejudice, officially the last book that I have to read for my English Literature degree. The fact that I knew I was so close to the conclusion of forced reading steeled my resolve and I finished Pride & Prejudice in a week despite being thoroughly bored for at least half of the novel…
The Bennet daughters are friggin’ desperate to get married. Like absolutely desperate. It’s all anyone talks about in this goddamn novel. In reality though this is the story of one Bennet girl and her will-she-wont-she relationship with a guy who starts off as a bit of a dick and ends up being the perfect man. I speak, of course, about Elizabeth Bennet and Mr Darcy.
Despite my aversion to Austen, I did enjoy parts of Pride & Prejudice. Namely, the bits in which Mr Darcy is being a stone cold LAD at the beginning and the final act when everything is wrapped up. The bits in which the youngest Bennet girl becomes embroiled in scandal and ends up marrying a complete dickhead were also pretty entertaining.
Aside from the aforementioned moments however, I can’t for the life of me understand why this novel has endured so readily and become so monstrously popular. Apparently, Pride & Prejudice is a comedy. You could have bloody fooled me. I didn’t so much as crack a smile the entire time. As always, this is almost certainly a fault with me – fat amateur blogger – than with Jane Austen – legendary author – but man is this book boring.
In the end I am glad I read Pride & Prejudice, mainly because it feels like the kind of novel that an aspiring English teacher should have read, but would I read it again? Absolutely not.