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?”     ...

House of Jane--Part Two:  Cassandra, Cassandra, and Sir Richard             After I finished at Jane’s house I walked down the road to Chawton Great House—once occupied by Jane’s brother, Edward Austen-Knight. It was opened to the public by the Knight family in 1987. More about that later. The walk to Chawton House is about eight minutes and includes some gentle rolling hills if one looks to the left. The path to the house is one that Jane herself would have walked on a regular, almost daily basis. But before I could visit that magnificent country house I had to pay my respects to some of its former guests.             Both Mrs. Austen and Cassandra Austen are buried in the churchyard of St. Nicholas (also known as Chawton Church). This is not to be confused with the church in Steventon where Rev. Austen was rector. This St. Nicholas was once a chapel for ...

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. ...

Have You Met Jane?  “Know your own happiness. You want nothing but patience – or give it a more fascinating name, call it hope.” — Sense and Sensibility             My pulse quickened as we approached Winchester Cathedral. We stood on the path that lead to it massive doors, and I paused. I imagined it’s what the entrance to heaven would look like; veiled by trees, with a grand edifice beyond that long walk.             “You can’t see the cathedral through the trees.” I joked.             It was a nervous joke, but also true. I could see old headstones in the churchyard, but not the cathedral itself. I took a photo, and thought, “This must be what it looks like to pass beyond the veil.”               My friend, who served as tour g...