Not long ago I enjoyed a night out at historic Dumbarton House in Georgetown. The 1996 movie version of Jane Austen’s Emma was being shown outdoors, and the event was attended by a large crowd, consisting mostly of women. Jane Austen films, books, and Austen culture in general are almost always guaranteed to attract crowds like this, filled with young women. And because I am also a young woman, it got me thinking: Why has Jane Austen—her books, their movie adaptations, even Austen herself—remained so beloved and so popular over the years? What is it about her that sends me to the garden at Dumbarton House, that keeps us coming back for more?
Growing up, my sisters, mother, and I would often watch the 1995 Pride and Prejudice miniseries on PBS, even forcing our only brother to join us. And we didn’t stop there: We watched and re-watched all of the Jane Austen movies. To us, they were part of family tradition—and for many, those values and their visions of times past are the same.
Janet Mullany, co-regional coordinator of the Washington, D.C., chapter of the Jane Austen Society of North America, tells me that Jane Austen is now a type of multimedia brand, which has increased her visibility to fans and casual watchers alike. There are movies, paraphernalia, and spinoffs—Clueless (1995), for example, and the Bollywood hit Bride and Prejudice (2004)—and “people have really fallen in love with the images, the clothing, the homes, the farms,” Mullany explains. Many members of her D.C. chapter have come to the novels by watching the TV shows and movies. “To a certain extent,” she says, “we’re all in love with the past.”
That love for the past is evidenced in the turnout for the outdoor Austen film series in Georgetown. Dumbarton House reports that there are 170-200 viewers for each film, many returning every year. The series—featuring Emma, Sense and Sensibility (1995), and Pride and Prejudice (2005)—began two years ago to celebrate, of all things, the bicentennial of the War of 1812. Austen, of course, lived during the conflict (she died in 1817), as did Joseph Nourse, who lived in Dumbarton House and was the first register of the U.S. Treasury.
When the Austen film series began, organizers were cautious about the expected turnout; they “were a little blown away by the response,” I was told. Janet Mullany is not surprised, however: Younger members are coming to the Jane Austen Society all the time. And what she’s seeing in Washington is but a symptom of a larger phenomenon. Spanish-speaking fans, as well as admirers in Japan and Australia and elsewhere, get together to discuss Austen’s novels and to eat and dance in Regency-style clothes. From magazines to meet-ups, the global fervor knows no bounds. In the words of Claire Harman, author of Jane’s Fame: How Jane Austen Conquered the World (2010):
The secret to Austenmania, Mullany believes, is the timeless and universal themes of her novels. “The books change with you,” she says. “You can read the books over and over again and you will find something in them that relates to your life at whatever stage you’re in. You’ll find something new.” What are these universal themes? Love, class, power, tradition, family relationships—all might well be the secret to Austen’s long and enduring popularity. But for all the fanfare and elation, and the intense reactions—E. M. Forster said that he read Austen with “the mouth open and the mind closed. Shut up in measureless content”—there have been those who don’t comprehend what the fuss is about. Charlotte Brontë’s criticism is scathing:
I wouldn’t chalk up Brontë’s attitude to rivalry; condemnation comes from all sides. “Every time I read Pride and Prejudice,” wrote Mark Twain, “I want to dig her up and beat her over the skull with her own shin-bone.” So not all have loved Jane Austen, her stories, and her “universal themes.” As for me? I fall in with the majority opinion around the world. The novels, even the movies, remind me of sisterhood, of home and family, and they fill me with humor and nostalgia. I’m still a little in love with the past, as well.
Judith Ayers is an editorial assistant at The Weekly Standard.
