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Films, books prove Austen's a witty social critic

Summer 1994: Jane Austen was a writer whom some people sort of remembered from their English-lit classes. Summer 1995: Jane Austen was starring at your local theater. Despite recent novel-turned-film catastrophes like "Frankenstein" and "The Scarlet Letter," Austen adaptations have been plentiful and popular: films of "Sense and Sensibility" and "Persuasion," a "Pride and Prejudice" miniseries, and "Clueless," a `90s version of "Emma."

What's behind this sudden upswing of interest in Austen's work? It seems that, surprisingly enough, novels that are nearly 200 years old are providing commentary on our society.

To begin with, one truly great thing about Austen film adaptations is the contrast they offer to many other current offerings. Let's take a look at some recent women's film roles: "Showgirls" ... enough said. The critically acclaimed "Leaving Las Vegas" -- Elisabeth Shue plays a prostitute. "From Dusk Till Dawn" -- Salma Hayek is a vampire and a showgirl. Hmm. Anybody notice a pattern?

Certainly, there are so-called "women's movies" like the recent "Waiting to Exhale." But while that film featured intelligent, independent women, all of them were so desperate for men that they dated a parade of losers right out of your freshman yearbook.

Austen's novels are somewhat similar, since much of the action in them revolves around getting married. However, in the early 1800s this was an economic necessity, as unmarried women had to depend on the generosity of their relatives. "I am not romantic; I ask only a comfortable home," Charlotte Lucas tells her friend Elizabeth Bennet in "Pride and Prejudice," after she decides to marry the disgustingly pompous Mr. Collins.

Still, all Jane Austen's female characters are refreshingly bright, literate and willing to speak up for themselves. Elizabeth Bennet's witty exchanges with Mr. Darcy provide much of the entertainment in "Pride and Prejudice," while the title character of "Emma" cheerfully manages everyone's life. Even timid Anne Elliot, in "Persuasion," declares, "I will not allow books to prove anything ... the pen has been in (men's) hands." It's ironic that we turn to Jane Austen, a writer from a far less liberated time, to offer us examples of sensible and self-reliant women, but we're fortunate in having such a source at all.

Austen's novels also serve as an invigorating example for modern fiction. While there's no shortage of serious literature in our society, clichéd and formulaic courtroom dramas or romance novels are much more popular.

It's good to know that Jane Austen gives these fictional genres a reason for existing. Of course, this purpose is solely that they become much more entertaining, when compared to a real work of literature. But at least now we know that titles like "Unbridled Desire in the Stables," and "The Bailiff" (the logical successor to "The Client," "The Rainmaker," etc.), really are justified in taking up shelf space in Borders.

For example, let's look at "Persuasion." Captain Wentworth, Anne Elliot's long-ago-rejected suitor, returns newly rich and sought-after. He informs her of his feelings in a letter: "I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. I am half agony, half hope. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more yours now than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago."

We'll now turn to Robert James Waller, who has produced several books about improbable middle-aged romances. (Motto: "Is that a bottle of Geritol in your pocket, or are you just glad to see me?") Here's an excerpt from the hero's letter in his Godzilla of best-sellers, "The Bridges of Madison County": "I am grateful for having at least found you. We could have flashed by one another like two pieces of cosmic dust." The New Age-inspired effusion is signed, "The last cowboy."

The conclusion is clear: exposure to Jane Austen novels creates a sort of alchemy. A book which produced only a groan or perhaps an incredulous smile, before, can now provoke us to full-blown hysterical laughter.

This may be the only healthy response to the contrast before us, and as such, is definitely a good thing. (DISCLAIMER: This is not meant to advocate frequent reading of books such as "Unbridled Desire," despite the humor value of the contrast. Such things are like Spam and Pauly Shore: amusing but inherently evil).

Still, there's one area in which Austen's society is very much like our own. Readers will immediately be struck by the complex nuances of dress, manners and social position in her novels. These might seem trivial and outdated, but as "Clueless" pointed out, they're not. Remember high school? The good old days of being classed as a prep, nerd, wigger, band geek, or stoner, and accepting your class's unalterable styles and customs. As for those other social groups, well, "no respectable girl would actually date one of them," to quote Cher, the heroine of "Clueless."

Things were no different in Jane Austen's time. Her novel "Emma" relates the story of an upper-class girl with the habit of socially appropriate matchmaking.

She draws distinctions between farmers, gentleman-farmers, and gentlemen, for example, and urges her friend Harriet not to marry one of the former. "It would have been the loss of a friend to me. I could not have visited Mrs. Robert Martin, of Abbey-Mill Farm." Emma's attitude is almost funny, until we remember how we used to draw equally inscrutable class distinctions. Some things haven't changed at all in 200 years.