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Shades from Jane Austen by Honoria Marsh was published in 1975-1976 in a series of limited editions. I saw this rare work at the silent auction table at the 2012 JASNA AGM meeting in NYC. There were many beautiful items, but this one was a standout with its colored illustrations, mostly silhouettes, and a few reproductions of Jane Austen’s writings. Bidding began at $50.00, but at the time I approached the table the price had gone up to $150.00, a bit beyond my price range but still less than the book attracts in online bookstores. The price reflects the book’s rarity, for only a few copies are available. I had seen a few illustrations before, but not the originals … until now.

The video shows a number of illustrations from the book not seen in this post. The portrayals of Jane Austen’s characters were painted by the author from life. Her sitters were either friends and acquaintances, or Jane Austen’s descendants or people associated with her! You can read their names below the title of the characters.

Part one of the book includes ‘Jane Austen’s Family in Silhouette’, a table showing Jane Austen’s Family and Chronology of Events During her Lifetime’ (written by Peggy Hickman), and Jane Austen’s family tree.

Part two includes an introduction and a discussion of Sense and Sensibility, Pride and Prejudice, Mansfield Park, Emma, Northanger Abbey and Persuasion.

Silhouette of Mrs. Gardiner

Alas, I do not know who successfully bid for the book in the silent auction or what it went for. Does anyone know?

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Inquiring readers: While I am at JASNA’s meeting in NYC this weekend, I leave you with this delightful description of Catherine Morland as a very young girl. I have often wondered how much Jane Austen described her own character. After all, she lived with a house full of boys and must have played cricket with them and slid down the slope behind Steventon Rectory during the snow! Interestingly, Jane Austen wrote the description in one long paragraph, which my images break up. I love the tongue-in-cheek quality of her depiction of Catherine, yet she manages to describe exactly what a young lady’s accomplishments OUGHT to be.

**A family of ten children will be always called a fine family, where there are heads and arms and legs enough for the number. (Portait of Sir William Young and family, Johann Zoffany.) Walker Art Gallery

Description of Catherine Morland

A family of ten children will be always called a fine family, where there are heads and arms and legs enough for the number; but the Morlands had little other right to the word, for they were in general very plain, and Catherine, for many years of her life, as plain as any. She had a thin, awkward figure, a sallow skin without color, dark, lank hair, and strong features,— so much for her person. And not less unpropitious for heroism seemed her mind.

Embroidered 18th century handkerchief. “The ball once struck off, Away flies the boy, To the next destind post, And then home with joy.” *Image @CNN

She was fond of all boys’ plays, and greatly preferred cricket, not merely to dolls, but to the more heroic enjoyments of infancy, — nursing a dormouse, feeding a canary-bird, or watering a rose-bush. Indeed, she had no taste for a garden; and if she gathered flowers at all, it was chiefly for the pleasure of mischief, — at least so it was conjectured, from her always preferring those which she was forbidden to take. Such were her propensities. Her abilities were quite as extraordinary.

Girl sketching, by Henry Raeburn. c. 1811 Image @Sudley House

Catherine Morland’s Accomplishments

She never could learn or understand anything before she was taught; and sometimes not even then, for she was often inattentive and occasionally stupid. Her mother was three months in teaching her only to repeat the “Beggar’s Petition;” and after all, her next sister, Sally, could say it better than she did. Not that Catherine was always stupid,— by no means: she learnt the fable of “The Hare and many Friends” as quickly as any girl in England. Her mother wished her to learn music; and Catherine was sure she should like it, for she was very fond of tinkling the keys of the old forlorn spinnet; so, at eight years old, she began. She learnt a year, and could not bear it; and Mrs. Morland, who did not insist on her daughters being accomplished in spite of incapacity or distaste, allowed her to leave off. The day which dismissed the music-master was one of the happiest of Catherine’s life. Her taste for drawing was not superior; though whenever she could obtain the outside of a letter from her mother, or seize upon any other odd piece of paper, she did what she could in that way, by drawing houses and trees, hens and chickens, all very much like one another.

Dancing Masters Ball, 1794, Isaac Cruikshank. Childrens balls were arranged so that children could practice their dancing lessons. Image: Courtesy of Yale University, Lewis Walpole Digital Image Library Call Number 794.8.27.1

Writing and accounts she was taught by her father; French by her mother: her proficiency in either was not remarkable, and she shirked her lessons in both whenever she could. What a strange, unaccountable character!— for with all these symptoms of profligacy at ten years old, she had neither a bad heart nor a bad temper; was seldom stubborn, scarcely ever quarrelsome, and very kind to the little ones, with few interruptions of tyranny; she was moreover noisy and wild, hated confinement and cleanliness, and loved nothing so well in the world as rolling down the green slope at the back of the house.

Below: Catherine as I envision her when she meets Henry Tilney


Head of a girl
Louise Elisabeth Vigée Le Brun

Citations:
*Did baseball begin in 18th-century England?, By Simon Hooper, CNN, June 9, 2010 8:29 a.m. EDT

**A portrait of Sir William Young and his large family shows a picture of 18th century wealth in a fashionably bucolic setting. A “conversation piece”, this depiction was meant to tell a story. The artist, Johann Zoffany, helped develop this type of piece, positioning the sitters as if they are actors. The family is wearing a type of fancy dress, 17th century costumes inspired by century-old portraits by Sir Anthony Van Dyck . This type of nostalgia was extremely popular in Britain around 1770.  Michael Henry Adams, A Queen for Today! Huffington Post, April 22, 2009.

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Inguiring readers, I literally SWOONED when I received a review copy of Emma: An Annotated Edition edited by Bharat Tandon. Readers of this blog know how much I have cherished this annotated series of Jane Austen’s novels by Harvard University Press. Click here for my review about the Annotated Pride and Prejudice and here for the Annotated Persuasion.

Lushly Illustrated Jane Austen Annotated Edition

Foremost, the books are lushly illustrated, beautifully produced, and well-researched by known Jane Austen scholars. Jane Austen Emma: An Annotated Edition is no exception. Considering the beautiful package, the book is very reasonably priced at $35 U.S., a perfect gift for the Janeite or historian in your family. Jane Austen Emma: Annotated Edition begins with a comprehensive introduction by Bharat Tandon, an academic, writer, and reviewer, who has lectured at the Universities of Cambridge and Oxford and specializes in teaching British literature after 1700 and American literature after 1900.

Emma is the only novel Jane Austen named after her heroine. Although she was fond of this eponymous character, she did not foresee Emma becoming a general favorite with the reading public, saying, ‘I am going to take a heroine whom no one but myself will much like.’ Truth be told, I’ve never quite warmed up to Emma Woodhouse, but in relation to 99% of the novels I’ve read my dislike is minor.

Annotated and Scholarly Insights on Emma

Her father, Mr. Woodhouse, on the other hand, has completely won me over with his odd, endearing hypochondriac ways, encouraging Mrs. Bates to eat a soft boiled egg and a very little bit of apple-tart, and a small half glass of wine put into a tumbler of water, for instance. Later in the novel, Mr. Woodhouse engages in a discussion with Frank Churchill about the room at the Crown, in which Frank tries to reassure the older man that the room reserved for the ball will be so large that there would be no occasion to open the windows and let in cold air upon heated bodies. Mr. Woodhouse nearly goes apoplectic at the thought, for both men are convinced that sweaty bodies should not be exposed to fresh air, a concept wonderfully explained by Tandon, who quotes The Code of Health and Longevity by John Sinclair (1807) as an explanation. Then there is this quote:

They were stopping, however, in the first place at Mrs. Bates’s; whose house was a little nearer Tandalls than Ford’s; and had all but knocked, when Emma caught their eye. – Immediately they crossed the road and came forward to her;”

I was delighted to discover that Jane Austen’s use of ‘catching an eye’ was one of the earliest citations of that particular use of that phrase in the OED, which cited Pride and Prejudice in the instance when Darcy catches Elizabeth’s eye and withdrew his own.

“The Linen Draper” from The Book of English Trades; and Library of the Useful Arts (London: Richard Phillips, 1818). (Image in the book)

Tandon discusses the meaning of making an entrance, the etiquette of dinner seating, square pianos, the plight of governesses, and so forth, and while I have seen some of the illustrations quite a few times before, such as the two that sit in this post, the author chose many that are new to me and add to my visual repertoire. Annotated books are such treasures for the serious reader of Jane Austen’s novels, explaining her words and old-fashioned idioms and making long dead customs come alive. This generously illustrated annotation from Harvard University Press both instructs and entertains with its running commentary along the margins, enhancing our enjoyment of one of Jane Austen’s most perfectly realized novels.

An Assembly Ball, plate 10 from the series “The Comforts of Bath”
1798, Colored aquatint. Image @Davis Museum and Cultural Center, Wesley College. (Image in the book)

Jane Austen Emma: An Annotated Edition is well worth the purchase.

I give this new addition to the Harvard University Press annotated Jane Austen novels five out of five regency teacups.

Purchase information: Harvard University Press

HARDCOVER

$35.00 • £24.95 • €31.50

ISBN 9780674048843

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Lady writing at her desk, 1813, Ackermann fashion plate, morning dress.

It is a truth universally known that during her lifetime, Jane Austen published her novels as “a lady.”  While some in the family knew about her writing success – her brother Henry and sister Cassandra swiftly come to mind – many did not, including the cousins. When a genteel woman like Jane was described as being at “work”, the phrase meant needlework and sewing clothes for the poor basket. A lady simply did not sully her hands by toiling at a trade. Jane did not want it bandied about that she was the author of Pride and Prejudice or Sense and Sensibility, but her proud siblings, Henry in particular, couldn’t restrain themselves and bragged about their talented sister.  The word got out and the least well-kept secret was the name of the lady who wrote those delightful novels.

James Edward Austen, the son of Jane’s eldest brother James, and a favorite nephew of hers, discovered at school in 1813 that his favorite aunt was the author of two novels he had enjoyed immensely. The 11-12 year-old was so delighted with the news that he penned an enthusiastic poem about his discovery and sent it to her:

To Miss J. Austen

No words can express, my dear Aunt, my surprise
Or make you conceive how I opened my eyes,
Like a pig Butcher Pile has just struck with his knife,
When I heard for the very first time in my life
That I had the honour to have a relation
Whose works were dispersed throughout the whole of the nation.

I assure you, however, I’m terribly glad;
Oh dear! just to think (and the thought drives me mad)
That you made the Middletons, Dashwoods, and all,
And that you (not young Ferrars) found out that a ball
May be given in cottages never so small.
And though Mr. Collins, so grateful for all,
Will Lady de Bourgh his dear Patroness call,
‘Tis to your ingenuity he really owed
His living, his wife, and his humble abode.

James Edward Austen as a young man.

When Edward Austen-Leigh, as he became later known in life, was 72, he penned his now famous Memoirs of Jane Austen,  leaving a legacy of the memories that he and his cousins retained a half century after her death. Had Edward not embarked on this quest, his memories (he was 16 when Jane died), and those of Caroline Austen and Fanny Knatchbull, might not have been captured in print. While his book preserved those fading memories, they also “sanitized” his aunt Jane’s reputation, erasing much of her sharp tongue and wit and replacing it with sweetness of character:

The grave closed over my aunt fifty-two years ago; and during that long period no idea of writing her life had been entertained by any of her family. Her nearest relatives, far from making provision for such a purpose, had actually destroyed many of the letters and papers by which it might have been facilitated. They were influenced, I believe, partly by an extreme dislike to publishing private details, and partly by never having assumed that the world would take so strong and abiding an interest in her works as to claim her name as public property. It was therefore necessary for me to draw upon recollections rather than on written documents for my materials; while the subject itself supplied me with nothing striking or prominent with which to arrest the attention of the reader…

Edward Austen-Leigh at the time he wrote Memoirs of Jane Austen

The motive which at last induced me to make the attempt [to write this memoir] is exactly expressed in the passage prefixed to these pages. I thought that I saw something to be done: knew of no one who could do it but myself, and so was driven to the enterprise. I am glad that I have been able to finish my work. As a family record it can scarcely fail to be interesting to those relatives who must ever set a high value on their connection with Jane Austen, and to them I especially dedicate it; but as I have been asked to do so, I also submit it to the censure of the public, with all its faults both of deficiency and redundancy. I know that its value in their eyes must depend, not on any merits of its own, but on the degree of estimation in which my aunt’s works may still be held; and indeed I shall esteem it one of the strongest testimonies ever borne to her talents, if for her sake an interest can be taken in so poor a sketch as I have been able to draw.

Bray Vicarage:
Sept. 7, 1869.

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Before Jane Austen and her sister, Cassandra, and mother moved into Chawton Cottage, they lived in a “commodious oldfashioned house in a corner of Castle Square” in Southampton. In his Memoir of his aunt, James Edward Austen-Leigh writes this charming, although bittersweet description:

John Petty, 2nd Marquess of Lansdowne

At that time Castle Square was occupied by a fantastic edifice, too large for the space in which it stood, though too small to accord well with its castellated style, erected by the second Marquis of Lansdowne, half-brother to the well-known statesman, who succeeded him in the title. The Marchioness had a light phaeton, drawn by six, and sometimes by eight little ponies, each pair decreasing in size, and becoming lighter in colour, through all the grades of dark brown, light brown, bay, and chestnut, as it was placed farther away from the carriage. The two leading pairs were managed by two boyish postilions, the two pairs nearest to the carriage were driven in hand. It was a delight to me to look down from the window and see this fairy equipage put together; for the premises of this castle were so contracted that the whole process went on in the little space that remained of the open square. Like other fairy works, however, it all proved evanescent. Not only carriage and ponies, but castle itself, soon vanished away, ‘like the baseless fabric of a vision’. On the death of the Marquis in 1809, the castle was pulled down. Few probably remember its existence; and anyone who might visit the place now would wonder how it ever could have stood there. – A Memoir of Jane Austen

George IV’s spider phaeton (1790) Click on image to view a larger version.

Postillion by Thomas Rowlandson (18th century – 19th century)

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