Why men must read Jane Austen…
In my nearly decade long career as a teacher and overall, in all my years as a reader, I’ve come across an alarming number of men and male students who say that they’ve never read Jane Austen. Each time, I am as shocked as I was the first time I heard that.
To give you some context, I am a teacher of English and Creative Writing so it’s only natural for me to enquire about students’ reading habits at the beginning of a term. And without fail, every time I ask the men in my classes if they’ve read Austen, their answer is invariably ‘no’. Upon further enquiry, I discovered that this was because they thought of Austen as a ‘rom-com writer’ (not my words). Any self-respecting Austenite (yes, that’s what we’re called) will know that this couldn’t be further from the truth. Of course, there is romance and comedy in her works but it would be too marginalizing to characterize her as just a writer of rom-com literature. Like a number of authors of her era, Austen’s writing is far more complex and layered than just the love stories in her books.
“I could not sit seriously down to write a serious Romance under any other motive than to save my life, & if it were indispensable for me to keep it up & never relax into laughing at myself or other people, I am sure I should be hung before I had finished the first chapter. No — I must keep my own style & go on in my own way; and though I may never succeed again in that, I am convinced that I should totally fail in any other.” (Jane Austen’s Letters)
I was 12 when I got my first taste of her work. I started with Pride and Prejudice (surprise, surprise!) and I’ll be honest here — I did only care about the love story at that age. I saw myself in Lizzie (you see, I’d been told way too often that I was too sarcastic for my own good) and I wished I’d meet a Mr Darcy someday. And for a couple of years after that, even as I read the rest of her books, I had a feeling that I’d missed out on something. Like I hadn’t fully grasped yet just why this woman was so popular, some centuries after her time. So, I read Pride and Prejudice again (this time I was 17). And what a revelation it was!
My dear Lizzie, was so much more than just a witty young girl and Mr Darcy was so much more than just a stuck up richie rich. I discovered where the true comedy of the book lay (in Mr Bennet’s character), and I fell in love with Jane’s effortless writing, succinct and decorous as it was and continues to be.
“I hate to hear you talk about all women as if they were fine ladies instead of rational creatures. None of us want to be in calm waters all our lives.” (Persuasion)
One of the biggest things that, to date, stand out for me here are how after being rejected by a woman so decidedly poor and inferior in status, Mr Darcy didn’t resort to calling her names or pursuing her despite her obvious disinterest. It can’t be denied that the fact that this was written by a woman has something to do with how this man dealt with rejection. Every single woman I know will vouch for the fact that this is probably how they’d like the men in their life to deal with a rejection. But in many cases, literature and cinema showed us how a man was simply incapable of accepting that the woman he loved might not love him back.
In Emma, Mr Knightley (another excessively rich man) offers to move to Hartfield estate to live with Emma and her father, who he knows she won’t be able to abandon. In Sense and Sensibility, Colonel Brandon stands by gracefully as the object of his affection pines over another. It may seem simplistic to point these examples out but it is important when you realize just how much it means to women to see men like this (even if they are only fictional).
“You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged; but one word from you will silence me on this subject for ever.” (Pride and Prejudice)
Popular literature and cinema have often (and successfully) tried to sell the idea of the angry young man. The man who doesn’t take no for an answer, the man who pursues his love interest until she gives in and the man who, if rejected, goes into a deeply disturbing downward spiral — these characters have for so long, been painted as desirable and romantic that it’s hard to see them for who they really are — annoying, childish and frankly, dangerous.
In Austen, we see that a man can stand for all his manliness and be respectful at the same time. In Austen, the bad boy is seldom rewarded. We see George Wickham and Willoughby and to a lesser extent, Frank Churchill lose their moral high ground as their true natures are revealed.
I have now made it a habit to introduce my students to Austen’s work by bringing up passages from her books in classroom assignments and sometimes assigning them for further reading. The women love it and the men are surprised by their enjoyment of it. It has led to some wonderfully eye-opening classroom discussions as well.
It’s not just the romantic heroes too. There is much to learn from the women in Austen’s stories. Elizabeth Bennet shows us how a woman need not accept anything less than true and equal love in order to get married, while Marianne Dashwood shows us that it’s okay to be young and foolish in love. With Fanny Price and Emma Woodhouse, Austen gives us protagonists who are often hard to root for and are extremely real and raw, with their faults at display for all to see.
“I am only resolved to act in that manner, which will, in my own opinion, constitute my happiness, without reference to you, or to any person so wholly unconnected with me.” (Pride and Prejudice)
I am happy to report that I’ve had some success in recent times and can now claim to have converted a few men into genuine fans of Austen’s literature. I’m now repeating this model to get them to read the Brontës and Alcott and hopefully one day, Mary Wollstonecraft & Sylvia Plath & Maya Angelou & Amrita Pritam.
In the meanwhile, I’m happy to be discussing the Bennett’s and the Dashwood’s and the Woodhouse’s…
