Jane Meets World
Jane
Meets World
It
was on this day, in 1775, that the Reverend George Austen, and his wife
Cassandra welcomed their second daughter into this world. She was nicknamed “Jenny”
at first, but was baptized a day later as Jane.
Social
satirist, novelist, romantic, feminist icon whatever you call her, Jane Austen
means so many things to so many people. There’s no one word that describes her,
or her writing. From a small cradle in Hampshire came a literary giant. To
paraphrase Northanger Abbey, “No one that saw Jane Austen as a child would know
she’d grow up to become a heroine.” Indeed, no one in her family would know
that, and yet she still is an inspiring figure. Her words flow like the rivers
of the Avon and Thames; timeless, and ceaseless. Despite 2017 being the 200th
anniversary of her passing, it feels as if she never left us. Every drop of ink
has inspired us to think, to grow, and to love. She knew the contours of the
human heart before psychology existed. I suspect that while theories of the
psyche come and go, her words will remain.
242
years have passed since her birth. It was a cold December evening when Jane
entered this world. She gave to it a tremendous series of gifts; her novels. To
read them is to know her. One can’t help but be taken away to a time and place
not so distant, and not so unlike our own. Jane presented an entire world that
would not only be satirized by her work, but in a strange way, preserved by it.
I experienced that when I first read her. I knew nothing of the Regency when I
was 17, and she opened my eyes to it. I have since learned that one could spend
a life time studying her work, and still not know everything about her, or her
time. That doesn’t stop me, or others from trying. If anything, it is more of
an encouragement, rather than a deterrent. For that matter, the closest I’ve
gotten to time travel was visiting Bath this past summer. I could imagine her
on the pavement, as she walked down Milsom Street, on her way to a dance of
course.
What more can I
say? Even today, when I read her work, I still hear it in her voice (of what I
imagine her voice would sound like). At age 17 I imagined what it would have
been like to have met her, and experienced such a reading. At age 38, as I
stood at the foot of her grave, I came as close as I could to that experience. Part
of me will always be there in Winchester Cathedral. But as for Jane, all one has
to do is open one of her books, and she speaks to you through the centuries. I
can’t think of many authors who come alive in that way. Nor, can I predict who
will in the future
The happiest of
birthdays to a woman who continues to inspire, and be ageless in my sight.
Copyright, Riley
Joyce 2017
Top photo: Wax figure of Jane, located at the Jane Austen Centre in Bath, England. Photo by author.
Top photo: Wax figure of Jane, located at the Jane Austen Centre in Bath, England. Photo by author.
The middle engraving is a color version of the black and white portrait, based on the sketch made by Cassandra, seen above.
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