Mr. Joyce Takes on the World

Meeting Mr. Knight The House of Jane Part Three             Jane didn’t call it, “Chawton Great House” for nothing. It is great.             I stood at the end of the long path that lead to Chawton House. It seemed so distant, and yet so close. I snapped a photo, and then walked up that long runway of tan-coloured earth. Once I arrived at the front door I paused and made note of the Knight family crest. It’s etched in stone, with the motto, “In the steps of St. Peter,” inscribed across a banner at its base. It felt odd to enter without knocking first, but I stepped inside anyway.             I arrived at the ticket office, only to discover that the last tour had concluded five minutes ago. A lady who worked there asked, “Would you still like to look around the house?”     ...

The House of Jane Part One Who's House? Jane's House! The train to Alton takes about an hour and fifteen minutes. When that train is delayed it takes about ninety minutes. When one is caught in London traffic on their way to Waterloo station, then it takes about two hours. As I boarded the train to Alton, I had this silly feeling. I felt that if my teenage self could have been here, he would scarcely believe that he was finally going to Chawton. I could scarcely believe it as an adult. It’s evident why people travel to Alton. The banner with a well-known silhouette and the dates 1775-1817, and the words, “This way to Jane Austen’s house!” are a complete give away. Though one is encouraged to literally follow in her footsteps and walk the forty-odd minutes to her cottage, I decided to take a cab. Luckily there’s a cab stand in front of the train station. Clearly someone was enterprising enough to consider flatfoot travelers from across the globe. ...

Meditation on London 2 Westminster Bridge, just before I walked across it.  The first time I met her I didn’t know what to think. She was loud. She was scented by petrol fumes. There were people clamoring all around her. Everyone wanted to either be with her, be in the same picture with her, or at least have a weekend fling with her. She’s been the mistress of kings and queens. The muse of authors, artists, filmmakers, rock musicians, and fashion icons. The streets that course through her are like veins that carry her lifeblood; her people. It’s the Thames that gives her those curves, as it caresses her sides, and holds her together. It’s like the laces of a corset that zig-zag across her back.             Her name is London.             I can’t help but feel a little smitten with her. I’m in love with Bath. I find Stratford-Upon-Avon charming. Manche...

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 200 th anniversary of her passing, it feels as if she never left ...

The Saddest of Days A Eulogy for Jane Austen             July 18 th is the saddest of days for Janeites. Yet it is also a time of celebration. While we collectively mourn the loss of someone so great to us, we also celebrate her life. Indeed, it is a time of both long-delayed tears, and joy.             As General Patton once said, about the casualties under his command, “It is foolish to mourn the dead. Instead, we should thank God that such men lived.”             I half-agree with the esteemed general. It is not foolish to mourn the dead; whether recent, or in the past. Though I agree, we should be thankful that such a woman lived. The daughter of a humble clergyman changed the world. She had lead no battlefield victories. Nor, did she run for office. Instead, she fought against convention. In a tim...