Jane Austen’s Unintended Life Lessons for 21st-Century Americans

Jane Austen’s Unintended Life Lessons for 21st-Century Americans
Costumed guests arrive for the Pride and Prejudice Ball at Chatsworth House in Derbyshire Dales, England, on June 22, 2013. The event was organized to celebrate the 200th anniversary of the publication of Jane Austen's "Pride and Prejudice." Christopher Furlong/Getty Images
Jeff Minick
Updated:
Many readers and critics regard Jane Austen (1775–1817) as the greatest of all female novelists, so much so that to make such a statement seems trite. Some even contend that she stands next to Shakespeare in popularity.

Denied fame in her lifetime—Austen published anonymously, in part, to protect the reputation of her father, a clergyman—today, her novels resonate with fans around the world. Young people, especially females, read and reread her works, enraptured by her prose and the Regency era in which she lived.

Writers and directors have brought numerous adaptations of her novels to the screen. For more than a decade, the Dumbarton House in Washington has sponsored an annual Jane Austen Film Festival, and the English city of Bath, where Austen spent quite a bit of time, has hosted both the Jane Austen International Film Festival and the Jane Austen Festival, the latter of which includes a ball where attendees deck themselves out in finery copied from Austen’s day.

More than Austen’s considerable literary talents account for this veneration. Though written more than 200 years ago, her stories continue to appeal because of their sage insights into such universal topics as marriage, money, female friendships, male character, and independence.

And then, there are the lessons, unintended and unforeseen by Austen, that her novels offer to readers in the turbulent 21st century.

A portrait of Jane Austen by British painter Ozias Humphry (1742–1810) on display at Christie's auction house in New York on April 16, 2007. (STAN HONDA/AFP via Getty Images)
A portrait of Jane Austen by British painter Ozias Humphry (1742–1810) on display at Christie's auction house in New York on April 16, 2007. STAN HONDA/AFP via Getty Images

Reading Between the Lines

I am no Austenian. Though I long ago read “Sense and Sensibility,” and once taught “Pride and Prejudice,” only recently did I open a copy of “Persuasion,” Austen’s final novel. It’s a story of love and second chances where Anne Elliot, aged 27, finds herself in the company of British Navy Capt. Frederick Wentworth several years after she’d broken off their engagement. Here are the drawing rooms, the beauties of the English countryside, and the sophisticated characters that are hallmarks of Austen’s fiction.

But as I made my way through “Persuasion,” I began to see Austen’s story as less a telescope into the past and more as a mirror for our current age.

She was writing for an audience of her peers, and her observations regarding human nature remain as true now as they were then, but through the men and women she portrays, and through the elegance of her writing, Austen inadvertently points out some deficiencies and imperfections in our own culture.

It was this realization that snagged my attention.

Language as an Art

To most modern readers, especially those new to Austen, her prose sounds contrived and artificial. Yet, if we compare her writing to the correspondence of our Founding Fathers, we find the same stiff formality.

Here, for instance, is a single sentence from John Adams apologizing to his future bride, Abigail, after previously writing to her of her flaws, a letter with all the eccentricities of that age’s grammar and spelling: “My soul and Body have both been thrown into Disorder, by your Absence, and a Month or two more would make me the most insufferable Cynick, in the World.”

In our time, however, being brief and blunt are the bywords of our compositions and our speech. Were we asked to revise Adams’s line, most of us, I suspect, might write, “I really miss you.” Our ubiquitous use of social media and texting further encourages us to squeeze thoughts into acronyms, memes, or mere blips of words.

We gain speed and brevity, sure, but we sacrifice the subtlety and careful wording of Austen’s educated contemporaries. Sophisticated correspondence was then regarded as an art, with certain conventions of speech and composition designed to allow the expression of one’s thoughts and emotions without haste, baseness, or crudity.

Lesson No. 1: Austen’s example reminds us to take better care of our language and to avoid the coarse expressions we so often employ.

Drawing Room Etiquette

In “Persuasion,” we meet the admirable Lady Russell, former close friend of Anne Elliot’s deceased mother who then becomes both friend and mentor to Anne herself. At one point, Austen describes Lady Russell as a “benevolent, charitable, good woman, and capable of strong attachments” who is “most correct in her conduct, strict in her notions of decorum, and with manners that were held a standard of good-breeding.”

Here again, “Persuasion” acts as a mirror for our time, when words such as “decorum” and “good-breeding” have become antiquities.

Not so long ago, for instance, we used to hear other people, usually older men and women, described as “gentlemen” or “ladies,” but both forms of address are now under fire, particularly lady, which, for some feminists, is sexist and therefore deemed inappropriate.

Most of us, of course, still practice some form of etiquette, teaching our children to say please and thank you and to hold open a door for the elderly, but compared to the world of Austen, manners are in short supply.

And, like language, those Regency-era formalities had a distinct purpose, which was to give order and form to daily conduct. Just laws offer this same paradox: They set limits on what we’re allowed to do but allow a great liberty within the parameters of the law. The formal relations between Anne Elliot and Capt. Wentworth allow them to interact with each other without the awkwardness they might have experienced at a party today.

Lesson No. 2: We can’t bring back the manners of the Regency era, nor, I suspect, would most of us want to, but we can adhere to a code of etiquette and decorum that eases difficult social situations and comforts our friends and guests.

Sense and Sensibility

In her novel by this title, Austen advocates for a balance between sense—rational thought—and sensibility, which in her age was a term denoting the emotional side of life. To fail to maintain that balance, to allow emotions to dominate thought, or vice versa, is usually catastrophic.

“Persuasion” gives us several characters who achieve this equilibrium. In her treatment of a girlhood friend fallen on hard times and her attempts to bring balance to others around her, Anne is a model of such behavior. Her former fiancé, Capt. Wentworth, also keeps a check on his emotions but without allowing pure reason to entirely determine his judgments. Though she occasionally gives Anne poor advice, Lady Russell is also even-tempered and gracious to those around her.

Others lack this stability. Anne’s married sister Mary Elliot Musgrove, for example, is a classic self-centered and fretful personality who’s often paranoid about the motives of others and who makes a poor wife and mother.

It’s unlikely, however, that even in her wildest dreams, Austen ever envisioned a society such as our own, where sentiment so often makes a slave of reason, especially in public. Our politicians pitch their various programs by appealing to our emotions rather than to our common sense, and to hurt someone’s feelings on social media is a cardinal sin that can bring out a vengeful mob. Ours is an age of unbridled passions, always galloping from one extreme to the next.

Lesson No. 3: Let heart and head together rule our decisions and actions.

A Final Note

When Anne realizes that Capt. Wentworth is visiting Bath, where she’s living with her family, she ponders that awkward situation.

“She hoped to be wise and reasonable in time,“ Austen writes about Anne, ”but alas! Alas! She must confess to herself that she was not wise yet.”

Most of us, whether young or old, might confess that we, too, are “not wise yet.” But reading Jane Austen can help us get there.

Jeff Minick
Jeff Minick
Author
Jeff Minick has four children and a growing platoon of grandchildren. For 20 years, he taught history, literature, and Latin to seminars of homeschooling students in Asheville, N.C. He is the author of two novels, “Amanda Bell” and “Dust On Their Wings,” and two works of nonfiction, “Learning As I Go” and “Movies Make The Man.” Today, he lives and writes in Front Royal, Va.
Related Topics