The camera zooms in on a man stretching his fingers to release his emotional tension as he walks away from the carriage in which he helps a witty, beautiful young lady mount. Almost any girl that qualifies as a teenager or young adult in the audience squeals in delight, for this scene is known as “the hand flex scene” from the 2005 Pride and Prejudice movie and, for the younger generations, serves as the equivalent to the older generation’s “lake scene” from the Pride and Prejudice 1995 BBC miniseries. Neither scene comes from the actual book. Jane Austen’s works have been popularized by the most successful of the myriad of film and TV adaptations attempting to capture the essence of her various novels, even though the authoress has been introduced in classrooms. Without the movies or miniseries, one ponders whether Jane Austen’s works still speak to us or are remembered for their entertainment value and romance. A curious dichotomy arises between the timeless themes of a work and the obsolete customs of a past society when anyone studies the old works our culture has immortalized as literature. Therefore, as our society furthers itself from the beliefs and customs of Regency England, Jane Austen’s novels lose their relevance and ability to connect with an audience over time.
Austen’s satire of Regency society, albeit interesting, makes for more of a history lesson, since the elements of society she criticizes no longer exist, such as issues revolving around inheritance and money in the upper classes and how a woman’s reputation hinges on Regency society’s obsession with female purity. The authoress discusses inheritance repeatedly in Sense and Sensibility, as the novel begins with the dilemma of Norland Park going to Mr. Dashwood’s son from his first marriage in such a way that it left Mr. Dashwood “no power of providing for those who were most dear to him, and who most needed a provision by any charge on the estate,” his second wife and three daughters (SS 2). The Dashwood women, unable to work, can only sustain themselves on their mother’s meager fortune and the charity they were supposed to receive from John Dashwood until his wife, Fanny, generously talks him out of offering financial aid (SS 5-9). The Bennet sisters of Pride and Prejudice face a similar problem, as Longbourn is entailed to the goofy Mr. Collins, and they have very small inheritances on which to live in the case of their father’s death or spinsterhood (PP 89). Since women can now work (in a commercial sense), the high stakes of having to marry or end up in the streets because the family home is entailed to a male relative who will kick them out is somewhat lost on the audience. Most people today require lessons on the nature of entailment and why it caused such distress when they read Pride and Prejudice and Sense and Sensibility. Although it makes for an excellent plot point, modern audiences cannot sympathize with the female characters the same way as Regency audiences. One might argue that readers cannot connect with characters in fantasy novels because readers cannot possibly have the same experiences. Still, most popular fantasy books are written for modern audiences and their sensibilities, just as Austen directed her books toward a Regency audience. Even historical fiction caters to contemporary audiences, and people prize the genre for its entertainment value, not its timeless lessons.
In addition, dowries and marrying for money are Regency wealth topics that modern audiences do not necessarily understand. Although most people comprehend the definition of dowry, they must be taught that it was a way to provide for newlyweds. Today, it seems that families had to “pay off” men to marry their daughters. Audiences find it insulting that a man would overlook the astounding qualities of a wonderful woman, as Willoughby does to Marianne, simply because she does not have a large dowry. Considering the reverse, the obsequious Mr. Elton attempts to win Emma’s heart through flattery because she has means and status; his hasty marriage to the vulgar, yet wealthy, Miss Augusta Hawkins to heal his wounded pride exposes that his intentions towards Emma had everything to do with money. What modern readers view as repulsive, nineteenth-century society saw as commonplace. With women able to provide for themselves and couples marrying for love instead of money, dowries slipped into oblivion. The modern standard of marrying for love destroys the concept’s novelty in Austen’s works because readers perceive it as common sense instead of bold and rebellious. Prioritizing a love match is the only way that marriages survive today since no-fault divorce gives couples an “easy out” so that they no longer must endure an abusive or even unhappy relationship in the same way that Regency couples had to endure. Unless someone is exceedingly wealthy, modern audiences see no point in marrying for money, as that route can only lead to frustration and disenchantment with one’s partner, leading them to cringe at Charlotte’s financially driven marriage to the odious Mr. Collins. Overall, dowries, and the idea of marrying for money associated with them, create such a disconnect between Austen and modern audiences that they quiet the voice of her novels.
Readers also lose touch with Austen’s discussion of a woman’s reputation because Regency society’s standards are so dated. Their obsession with chastity could ruin a girl’s chance of marriage if rumors diffused that a lady’s honor was in any way compromised, as they deemed “loss of virtue in a female … irretrievable” to the point where “one false step involves [a lady] in endless ruin” (PP 234). In the past, the obsession with female purity was somewhat reasonable because the nobility and wealthy landowners wanted to ensure that their heir was biologically their child at a time when DNA testing did not exist. Now, promiscuity does not ruin a woman’s chances of marriage, and having sex before marriage has become so common that some circles of men and women keep count of the number of people they sleep with as a sordid source of pride. Even if people valued purity more, the threat of having marriage prospects ruined by a damaged reputation loses its strength because women no longer rely on marriage as their only source of security. By a similar line of reasoning, women cease to observe the idea of spinsterhood as frightening or undesirable. When Harriet asks Emma why she would condemn herself to the horrible future of an old maid, Emma explains that she has “none of the usual inducements of women to marry” like fortune, employment, or status, and “it is poverty only which makes celibacy contemptible to a generous public” (E 70). Harriet’s reaction represents the typical mindset of people in the nineteenth century. At the same time, Emma exposes what makes spinsterhood undesirable and demonstrates that it has nothing to do with a fear of ending up alone. However, during that time, only well-off young ladies could view celibacy as a viable option; now, many women live perfectly content lives alone, providing for themselves and enjoying the companionship of family and friends because the horrors of diminishing income and security that make spinsterhood undesirable no longer pose a problem. Since ruining one’s marriage prospects or ending up as an old maid do not hold as much terror for current audiences, reputation in regency England is yet another issue relegated to a useful plot point and world-building by modern readers. Ultimately, readers learn interesting historical facts about Regency culture through Jane Austen’s novels and have come to view her works as excellent entertainment, but they have difficulty connecting to her writing because she aimed it towards a completely different culture.
However, someone with an opposite perspective could argue that the handful of novels written by a relatively inconsequential woman must speak to readers no matter the period to stay relevant so long after the time they were written. Readers connect with Austen’s work so much that fans flock to Bath annually for a festival in her honor. Austen’s novels remain relevant because of their timeless coming-of-age lessons about relationships and self-awareness.
Readers can gain insights into themselves as they follow her heroines on their journeys of self-discovery, helping to make Austen’s writing timeless. For example, audiences learn that they must act carefully and with the right intentions when influencing the lives of others; otherwise, they can cause all manner of unnecessary heartache and trouble through Emma’s experiences. Emma Woodhouse starts as a privileged, self-important young woman who believes that meddling in the love lives of her companions is “the greatest amusement in the world, ”but through several failed matchmaking attempts and the influence of Mr. Knightley, she realizes she “[had] been universally mistaken” by allowing her “insufferable vanity” and “unpardonable arrogance” to lead her to play with others’ lives. (E 8 and 336). She causes Harriet a great deal of heartache by influencing her to turn down Mr. Martin’s proposal, the man whom Harriet truly loved, pushing her to become attached to Mr. Elton when he never returned Harriet’s affections, and unknowingly encouraging her infatuation with Mr. Knightley (E 42, 58-61, 331). Each of Emma’s failures brings her one revelation closer to understanding that meddling in the lives of others engenders more severe consequences than increasing her power and amusement. Only through her failures did Emma gain enough clarity to reflect on her actions and deem them insufferable and unpardonable, demonstrating her progressing maturity. Most people struggle with acknowledging their flaws, like Emma at the beginning of the novel, so watching her progress inspires self-reflection in the audience because they might notice similar flaws in themselves as they start relating or connecting to Emma. In addition, readers glean valuable lessons from Elizabeth Bennet as she learns not to allow her first impressions of people to affect her actions and to view her family objectively. Perhaps Pride and Prejudice resonates with people because everyone is guilty of wrongfully judging someone based on a first impression. Following Elizabeth as her opinion of Mr. Darcy shifts from “the proudest, most disagreeable man in the world” to “perfectly amiable” with “no improper pride” and her esteem for Mr. Wickham drops lower than Lizzie’s hem in the mud the more she gets to know them teaches readers that, while first impressions have some merit, one must not allow prejudices to form that “[drive] reason away” when interacting with others (PP 8, 306, and 170). She also demonstrates a crucial step towards adulthood, objectively viewing one’s family, when she acknowledges the “justice” of the “mortifying, yet merited reproach” surrounding her family’s actions at the Netherfield ball (PP 171). Young adults can relate to Lizzie because they start noticing traits in their parents that they admire or dislike, as aging brings about a greater knowledge of oneself and one’s surroundings. Jane Austen’s works are timeless because her characters experience universal situations to which people can still relate and learn from today.
As her heroines learn about themselves, they also gain insights into their relationships with others. Jane Austen beautifully and realistically portrays all kinds of relationships in her work, from rivalry to romance. Through her characters, she advances that relationships require honesty, humility, and respect to become strong and healthy. Her most celebrated couple, Elizabeth and Darcy, inspire each other to change immensely, and only after those changes do they become a compatible romantic couple. After Lizzie criticizes him instead of accepting his pompous proposal, Darcy decides to improve his character because he recognizes that he “was given good principles, but left to follow them in pride and conceit” (PP 300). By secretly saving Lydia and the Bennets from ruin instead of ostracizing the entire family, Darcy demonstrates a complete paradigm shift from his previous pretension and arrogance. As mentioned in the previous paragraph, Elizabeth also undergoes an extensive paradigm shift. Not only do Mr. Darcy and Lizzie gain the humility to accept and act on each other’s criticism, but they also develop respect for each other’s admirable qualities and especially for pointing out their shortcomings; such respect makes the romance so compelling that every Janeite idealizes it. The family dynamics in Austen’s stories also express similarly timeless sentiments. The Bennets and the Dashwoods feature close-knit relationships that help the characters weather financial worries, reputational ruin, sickness, and romantic struggles. Elinor cares for Marianne when she falls violently ill, and Marianne supports Elinor through all the emotional turmoil that Edward causes her (SS 237-244, 278). Furthermore, Elizabeth stands up for Jane in front of Mr. Darcy, while Jane serves as a wonderful confidant for Elizabeth to share her feelings about Mr. Darcy and Mr. Wickham (PP 156 and 183-185). The eldest sisters of Sense and Sensibility and those of Pride and Prejudice demonstrate that a solid sisterly relationship, whether between actual sisters or extremely close friends, significantly helps one navigate the minefield of life. Nearly every female in the audience, past or present, understands the importance of having a trustworthy female confidant who shares their tears, smiles, and anxieties, as exemplified by the Bennet and Dashwood girls. While the Bennets and the Dashwoods simulate the joy and stability that strong bonds between siblings and parents can bring, they also withstand the frustrations of disagreements, obnoxious traits, and other family burdens. For example, Lizzie’s frustration with her father builds when he ignorantly allows Lydia to go to Brighton so he can have peace in the house (PP 189). Every child feels that their parents or siblings have not listened to them at least once. No matter how deeply the families are submerged in outdated culture and customs, their imperfect interactions remain timeless and relatable because everyone feels the same emotions when dealing with family. Austen’s portrayal of familial and romantic relationships embodies universal experiences and teaches timeless lessons, keeping her work relevant after two hundred years.
All the arguments that Austen’s works do not speak to audiences today pale in comparison to the ageless lessons about personal and relational growth that flow from her novels. Some argue that her books should be dismissed as historical and romantic entertainment because the antiquated customs around which they revolve diminish their impact to the point where readers require crash course lessons to understand them fully. However, the heroines undergo extensive personal growth before the romance becomes a forerunner in the story, and both aspects merit study. Any work of literature requires extensive study, but they have been deemed literature precisely because study uncovers profound and timeless discussions. People might now consider Austen’s novel ideas commonplace and her social commentary irrelevant, but everyone can benefit from her universal discussions of life and relationships.
